


Mr Hollywood

by buckybabybaby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Actors, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Other, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2020-05-12 21:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 33,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybabybaby/pseuds/buckybabybaby
Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?*Complete!*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in September 2017 so it's long over due being posted. I've only written one series so far, and that was nearly two years ago so I may be out of practice, but this is a story that’s been floating around in my head for years so... I really hope people like it! I think I'll aim to post every weekend, and by putting this out today I'm hoping I force myself to write more.  
> Enjoy!  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dream begins...

****Mr Barnes, of Wild Fields Primary School, looks exactly like one of those teachers that pop up in viral tweets because they are just too attractive not to be shared with the world, but as a Year One teaching assistant, the children he helps are far too young to be affected by his appearance. But then there are their parents.

You have spent many a school play, summer fête, and open evening watching them watching him, and wondering how it is that he appears so calm in the face of such obvious flirting. The effort some of the single mums and dads, as well as a few of the very married ones, make with their appearances when they think he might be at an event is laughable.

Or at least it would be funny if it wasn't so embarrassing.

Bucky first arrived four years ago, and as an American in a sleepy English village, he had caused quite the stir. During the first few weeks his every move was watched by the residents like a new exhibit at the zoo, and that was partly how you had become friends, after feeling the need to defend him against one particularly rude busybody who made a comment about his suitability to teach at the school.

The grateful smile he sent your way melted your heart and the two of you have be inseparable ever since.

Now, with three weeks to go until the summer holidays there's a buzz around the school, but this Monday afternoon your class have been remarkably calm, flipping through their books during 'reading time' in near silence as you sit at your desk trying not to bite your nails. The second hand on the clock at the front of the schoolroom appears to be slowing down the longer you stare at it, but you can't concentrate on your lesson planning when you don't know what is wrong with Bucky.

He's been weird all day and you need to find out why. Playground duty at mid-morning break meant you hadn't had a chance to speak to him then, and he wasn't anywhere obvious at lunch, so you've had to just watch through the small window separating your classroom with the one he was working in today as he pulled at his hair harder than usual. Even without confronting him you can tell something is up, and you hope to catch him before he leaves at the end of the day.

The last bell finally rings, and you usher your pupils out as quick as you can without looking desperate, excusing them from putting their chairs tidy under their desks because you can see Bucky doing the same. You don't like the idea of him going home in the state he seems to be in without talking to someone.

When the last stragglers eventually wish you farewell you hurry out too and walk briskly along the corridor to the other Year One classroom, dimly aware there may be other children still inside who you don't want to break the 'no running' rule in front of. As the lights are switched off you assume the room is deserted, so you're about to rush off to the staff room in the hope of intercepting him when a shadow near the window catches your eye.

Opening the door, you slip in quietly. “Bucky?” He doesn't move, only making a noise in response, a low hum that does nothing to reassure you. “Are you okay?”

That question seems to shake him out of his haze. He tilts his head to look back at you, then nods towards the table he's sitting on, a silent invitation to join him. You do, searching his face for an answer when he turns towards you.

“I feel sick.”

Okay, so he's ill. That makes sense, as you know how hard it is to try and work when you're not feeling one hundred per cent, and he does look pale.

“Do you want me to take you home? I can make you some soup if-”

“Not that sort of sick,” He interrupts. “Nervous sick.”

“Oh.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“It's a secret.”

“Okay?”

“I, er,” He takes a deep breath. “You know that teaching, or assisting at teaching, wasn't ever something I really wanted to do. I just fell in to it, sort of. But it's not that I don't enjoy it! I love it, most days, and sometimes I think I could do this for the rest of my life and be okay with it. It's just that it is always going to feel like a substitute for what I really want to do, and... I'm not explaining my self very well am I?”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “You are rambling a bit, are you sure you're not ill?”

“Nah, I'm just a bit dazed. I got a call back. A big one.”

Your eyebrows raise as he says that. A call back? You were aware that with his degree in theatre he always wanted to pursue work in TV or film, but when his twin brother was transferred over to a specialist rehabilitation hospital in the UK he had to abandon that dream and move here to care for him.

 

As soon as Dayton had recovered he encouraged him to get back to what he loved, and from going to open auditions Bucky had landed a few roles in adverts, mainly for the radio, but he's been very quiet on that front recently.

You haven't said anything, still trying to understand how he managed to keep this from you. “Here, this might help explain.” He hands you his phone, open on an email which you scan quickly. And again. Then once more, taking time to read every word carefully and process the potentially life changing information it contained.

You look back at him, mirroring his wide-eyed expression. “Stark? Stark _Pictures_?” He nods. “And they need to see you _again_? When did you go before, what is this?”

“Last weekend when I went to London.” He swallows. “It's not a commercial this time.”

“I can see that. Gosh Bucky, does this say what I think it does?” You don't give him a chance to reply before you bombard him with more questions, “What TV show is it? Who would you play? It says here it's a screen test for chemistry, so it's more than just a simple call back isn't it? Bucky, why didn't you tell me any of this?”

“I didn't think anything would come of it,” He says, staring out of the window and choosing not to answer your other queries. “And it doesn't matter anyway 'cos I'm not going.”

“What?” You whip around to face him, astonished. “What do you mean you're not going?”

“Look at where it is Y/N,” He whispers. “I can't afford flights back to America, especially at the moment.”

Silence follows as you think about the frankly pathetic wage an assistant teacher gets. With his rent, bills and the train fare to visit his brothers new home he was basically living pay check to pay check.

“Can't they pay for you?” You say eventually.

“I don't want to ask.”

You sigh, knowing how proud Bucky can be, how he'd rather struggle than ask for help. He's been like that his entire life, according to Dayton, and you can almost hear his exasperated voice scolding him. For Dayton's sanity, and for the sake of Bucky's future, you do the only thing you can.

Hopping off the table and pulling out your own phone you hold it up against his. “Okay, so you need to be there for the afternoon of the seventh. Which means,” You pause to scroll down the website, “With time differences...”

Bucky approaches you slowly, eyeing your phone. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Booking your flights. Hope you don't mind economy?” Ignoring his squeak of protest, you dodge out of his reach as you continue to type. “You won't need any hold luggage will you?”

“Y/N, please, stop,” He tries again, succeeding in grabbing your phone this time but you snatch it back just as quick, walking backwards away from him as he whines. “I can't ask you too do this.”

“You didn't ask, I'm offering. Now what's your passport number?”

“Y/N, I'm not going to let you do this.”

Stopping in front of him you meet his eye, silently daring him to refuse. “No best friend of mine is going to miss a screen test at Stark Pictures, when the role is yours in everything but name. Not over a few hundred measly pounds. Okay? Passport number.”

Realising you've adopted your 'teacher voice' to reason with him, you clear your throat, not wanting him to feel belittled. You know it must be hard for him to accept help. He's still standing there looking pained, so you try one last time. “Please Bucky, this is your dream, don't let your pride get in the way. Plus, you'll be able to pay me back ten times in a month.”

That last part seems to work. His frown disappears and he pulls you into his arms while you're still typing, crushed against his chest as he laughs through tears.

“Twenty times,” He promises into your hair, and you completely believe he would.

 

****

 

Bucky's flight home landed half an hour ago but there's still no sign of him. The couple of days before he left on Friday flew by, then the weekend seemed to drag as you awaited his return, and now you can't sit still as you stare down Heathrow's arrivals gate, wondering if you should have made him a 'welcome back!' sign like the family next to you.

He doesn't actually know you're here to meet him, and you're hoping he hasn't managed to slip past you in the crowds as the announcement warning against leaving baggage unattended plays for the umpteenth time.

A group of university students sporting Dodgers caps pass by and you stand in anticipation. On spotting Bucky walking through the doors you begin to move in his direction, shouting at him across the hall louder than you intended, but the attention of others doesn't bother you as his tired smile morphs in to a full grin in realisation. You speed up your pace to close the distance between the two of you until he's dropping his holdall, reaching out for you and lifting you off your feet to spin you around.

“You didn't say you were coming!” His excitement is for more than your surprise presence, you can tell, and that's almost enough evidence of how this trip went. Before he'd gone out, one of the producers had emailed him to say they were okay with him working his notice and staying until the summer holidays started, and from that you had interpreted that they were pretty certain he was going to be the one they cast, but you still need to hear him say it.

“Never mind that,” You pull away to watch his face. “Well? Did you get it?”

“No, sweetheart, I'm this happy because I didn't.”

You roll your eyes as he smirks at you, but you know what he is actually saying and he holds you tighter as you offer your congratulations, so pleased for him you could burst.

He sets you down and you smooth out his jumper, beaming up at him. “Come on then Mr Hollywood, two more weeks of term, better make them count.”

Bucky laughs at that and lets you lead him towards the train station to go home, or at least home for the next few weeks, until he starts his new life in Los Angeles and everything changes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me [here on tumblr,](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/) if you want!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sports day in the sun, and Bucky's last days at Wild Fields Primary School.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is not much plot atm but we'll get there soon, this is just establishing their friendship...

 

Sports day. Not everyone's favourite two words, in fact a lot of peoples least favourite, but over the years you've been at this school you've made it your mission to make sure every child feels included in the day, regardless of sporting ability.

During the year, house points were given out to the pupils, and the cup is rewarded to the victor at the end of today’s events. The school is split in to two houses, either Buttercup or Thistle, and the children are encouraged to find an outfit in the same colour as the flower, turning the playing fields in front of you into a sea of yellow and blue.

As the weather can be unpredictable, even in early July, there is always a contingency plan in case of rain, but this year you're lucky. Maybe a little too lucky you think, as you wipe the sweat away from your brow, too hot even with your loose cotton outfit, the cloudless sky matching your shorts perfectly.

Parent's and other family members can come to watch and bring a picnic to share if they're able, which is great for you as it gives you a free lunch hour for once, which you're taking full advantage of. Sprawled out on one of the playgrounds benches in the shade, you watch the kitchen staff hurry back for more supplies through the heat haze coming off the tarmac.

“You look like you need a drink,” Bucky says from behind you, and you twist in your seat to squint up at him. Smiling down at you with two bottles of water, you can see exactly what that TV producer saw when they thought of him as their leading man. Looking like he spent three weeks in the sun not three days, his tan works well against his hair, which is a little longer now due to the end of term coming up, the length finally allowing a gentle wave to form through it.

There is no doubt in your eyes that he is absolutely beautiful.

It can be difficult being friends with Bucky, when he's so attractive, so kind and thoughtful and funny, and you have to keep your cool because you know it'd never work out. Your friendship with him means so much that you wouldn't even want to risk it, and besides, he is going to be the next big thing in Hollywood and you're just... you. A long time ago you told yourself nothing could happen, and that mantra has kept you sane through the years, especially during that long weekend last summer when you and Bucky had babysat his nephew. He was so good with little Benjamin, and the three of you together for those few days had felt so much like a family your heart ached.

You sit up, shaking the thought out of your head, not wanting to go down that track again. Bucky was leaving in a week or so, and you were going to make sure he went off to America ready for his new adventure, without the burden of an unplanned, unexpected and unwanted confession.

It wasn't like you were in love with him anyway.

Collecting yourself, you grab your bottle from him with a grin. “Feels as though you brought some of that L.A. weather back with you.”

“It's too hot!” He whines, sitting next to you with an over the top groan. The yellow bandana he always insists on wearing in his hair is unravelling at the back and you tuck it back in place as he shuffles closer, leaning into your touch. “Do you think I'll get used to the heat when I move?”

“Maybe. Can you really not tell me anything about what you'll be shooting?”

You'd been pressing him for details since he came back but his answer was always the same. “Nope.”

“You're no fun.”

“Would if I could, you know that.”

You're not sure you do but at that moment you're interrupted by a passing Year Three, whose name you think is Oscar. He's evidently clocked Bucky hair piece, matching his own, and waits for a high five from his favourite teaching assistant before he's off just as quick as he arrived, rejoining his friends in the bright sunshine.

Watching them kick a ball to each other, Bucky hums happily, sipping his water. “I'm going to miss this.”

Its then the thought of being here without him really hits you for the first time. Who will you sit with next sports day? Sure, Peggy is another one of your best friends, however as deputy head teacher she's usually busy at such events. Edwin is an absolute sweetheart too, but his own children attend the school so he always tries to be with them, and you sigh as you think that even now, all grown up, you're still the quiet one with only a few friends.

You want to tell him not to go, that you can't see yourself here without him, but who would you be to ask him to stay just because you're going to be lonely? This was his dream, all he's ever envisioned for himself when talking about the future, and this current job was only ever meant as a temporary fix for when he was here after Dayton's crash. One way or another he would have gone, you just selfishly hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

 

*****

 

The bell rings again to signify the end of lunch, and the beginning of the teachers race. A non traditional relay with eight stages, you've opted to go fifth, as has Bucky, and you're excited to see how you fare against him. He may be a beast in the gym, but you feel over the short distance you might just have the upper hand.

It's eerily calm over on the other side of the field, away from the main crowds, and you take a moment to enjoy the peace of the beautiful summers day. The quiet doesn't last long, however, as Bucky starts stretching loudly next to you, grunting obscenely in a way you know is meant to throw your concentration off. Flicking your hand in his direction, you work really hard at ignoring his actions as he sniggers.

A cymbal borrowed from the music room is hit, and the race begins. The sound of the children screaming does reach you then, watching beside a suddenly still Bucky as the baton is passed from the first runners to the second then third. You're both in the zone as the forth stage begin running, and you share a grin as you start jogging before they reach the two of you. It all happens in a blur, the cool metal is pressed into your hand and you don't think of anything other than getting it to the next person along, not caring what you look like or where Bucky is. Your legs are aching but that does not concern you, not when the Reception teacher in front of you doesn't drop the baton when you pass it over, finally slowing down whilst you cheer them on their way.

Only then do you allow yourself to look for Bucky, who appears by you as if summoned, tickling your sides, causing you to shriek and skip out of his reach.

“I think I won that, yeah?”

He nods, smirking. “Who'd have thought little Y/N could be so fast?”

Pushing him, your attempt to trip him up fails as you fall over your own feet, ending up flat on your back on the grass, deciding just to stay there as you catch your breath, propping your head up to watch the race end.

It's hard for you to tell which team won at this distance, but the far too pleased look on Bucky's face as he towers over you tells you all you need to know. Clearly his eyesight is better than yours.

“Next year we'll...” You don't finish your sentence as you remember there won't be a next year. It's all happening so quickly it's hard to get your head round, and there will be a lot more 'last times' to come.

“You never know, I might be back.” He tries to cheer you up. “It could all go wrong and I'll be begging them for my old job.”

You blink away your tears, determined not to make him feel guilty about leaving.

“You're too high profile now, they'd never be able to afford the security.”

He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head in a mock cocky way, making you giggle as you accept a hand back up.

You were joking, but there is an ounce of truth in that statement, you realise, and as you amble back towards the main stage you swallow the bitter taste in your mouth at the idea of something changing things between you and Bucky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bye bye Bucky :(  
> 

 

You knew this day would be hard. You'd toyed with the idea of making an excuse and not seeing Bucky off, because you were sure you wouldn't be able to keep it together watching him leave, potentially forever, but when it came down to it you couldn't not go. Not after all these years of friendship.

The car ride to the airport has been deadly silent. Dayton volunteered to drive Bucky as his flight was so early in the morning there isn't a train running yet, and you accompanying them wasn't even questioned, but now you wish you'd said farewell back at home. What are you meant to say at moments like this? How can you wish someone luck, when all you're thinking is how to stop them from going. It's unfair, and selfish, and voicing any of your thoughts would just cause everyone pain. The tell tale tickling in the back of your throat has you quiet anyway, scared that as soon as you speak you'll break down. So you just sit in the back and watch as the sky lightens into dawn.

 

*****

 

Far too quickly the car is pulling off the motorway, following the flow of traffic towards the main terminal, and Dayton slows down, attempting to find a space in the short stay car park.

When he's parked, Bucky jumps out to retrieve his bag, and just as you're about to open your own door Dayton reaches a hand back to stop you. “Do you want me to wait here, let you go in with him alone?”

“No! Of course not. If anything I should be the one to stay, family comes first.”

“You _are_ family, you know that Y/N.”

That throws you a bit, still not used to how welcoming Dayton and his wife are to you. You're not sure what you did to deserve such good friends but at times like this you're immensely grateful for them.

“Well then, we should both go.” You choke out as Dayton smiles sadly at you.

“I'll miss him a lot too, I've got used to having my brother so close after all the years I travelled for work. But he sacrificed so much for me. Gotta let him go.”

“Gotta let him go,” You repeat quietly.

Bucky interrupts then, sticking his head through the window to hurry you up, and Dayton squeezes your hand one more time before following after his impatient twin.

 

*****

 

It only feels like a few minutes later that you're pausing in front of security after Bucky breezed through check in. Dayton's already said his goodbyes, and despite your protest, has left you two alone for the final minutes. Aware this will be the last time you will see him for a while, you take all of him in.

Due to never being in the same place long Bucky only has a few belongings, most of which now rest in one of the garages at Dayton's house, and as he stands in front of you with his backpack, clutching a sun hat for when he lands, you can imagine him as a teenager, leaving home in Brooklyn to live his dream. He's still got that determination, despite all the rejections and set backs, and you couldn't be more proud. Even though you know your life will be emptier without him.

He spots how close to crying you are and pulls you into a hug, shushing you as you breathe shakily, struggling to keep the tears at bay. The noise of the other passengers and well wishers fade away as you cling to his coat, wishing you could go with him.

He pulls back enough to lift your chin, so you're look directly at him. “I'll be back.”

“When?” You ask a little too eagerly, making him chuckle

“I've got a weeks break in September. I thought I'd come back, help you with all those apples like normal?”

Closing your eyes against fresh tears, you picture early Autumn in your little back garden, collecting and pressing fruit with Bucky in the sun. It's an image that will keep you going throughout the long, lonely summer holiday.

“I've really got to go now.”

Letting go, you push him away, thinking it'll be better to get this over quickly. There's no dramatic scenes as he unlaces his shoes, or as the guard checks his ticket, and that breaks the dam for you, crying silently at the realisation that _this is it_. He salutes at you from the other side of the metal detectors, making you laugh through the tears you can't stop, and then he collects his bag from the tray and he's gone. You stay there staring at the closed door to the departures lounge, waiting for... what exactly? Him to come back? You to wake up? You don't know so you don't move.

“Do you want to wait, watch his flight depart?”

You jump at Dayton's voice, unaware he's rejoined you. You try to compose yourself as you shake your head. “No. I'm tired. Kinda want to go back to bed.”

He chuckles in agreement, wordless passing you a tissue so you can wipe your nose. “Got anything planned for the six week break?”

Shaking your head again, you admit you haven't, and Dayton promises you can come whenever you want. Only half listening as he rambles on about his own plans, you appreciate his attempt to distract you, but all you're thinking about is how six weeks is a very long time. What _are_ you going to do?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [tumblr](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/), if you want!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn and apples and cheeky chickens getting up to no good.  
> 

 

Turns out, what you're going to do over the summer is hide. Not for the whole holiday, but it takes you a good couple of weeks to get used to Bucky's absence, and it's the middle of August before you actually accept any of your other friends invitations to meet up. Up until then, you really didn't feel like company, and as a result your little home has never been tidier.

You've rearranged the living room, reorganised the airing cupboard and the abundance of spare towels it contains, and even finished painting the spare bedroom, a project that had been abandoned many months ago.

Basically you've done everything you can to keep yourself distracted.

September creeps up on you, as does the start of term, bringing with it good and bad news. The good is that Bucky's replacement turns out to be a super sweet, fresh-out-of-university trainee teacher named Peter. You've been tasked with settling the new staff member in, meaning you're too preoccupied most of the time to notice how odd it feels without Bucky. Peter's enthusiasm is infectious, and for the first time since the end of the last school year you're looking forward to the challenges of this new one.

The bad news comes from Bucky himself. Apparently, time away from set has been restricted to family emergencies only, and therefore his trip back here has to be postponed, as production has been slow due to bad weather.

“Who'd had thought it? In California!” He laughs down the phone.

“So you're not coming home?”

“Not unless I pretend Dayton got in another crash or something.”

“Well...”

“I couldn't! Besides, he's got too many followers on instagram. If I say he's in a coma and then he's posting pictures it's going to look a little suspicious.”

You only just stop yourself from suggesting other excuses he could try, knowing it's useless. Bucky was the riskiest casting for the film company, being an unknown with no big name pull or any sort of fan-base, so he doesn't want to jeopardise anything by getting on the wrong side of the producers. And you don't want him too either. Glancing around the empty playground, having taken his call on your way home, you kick at the first fallen leafs as you think of something positive to say. The signs that Autumn is approaching reminds you of what you had planned for Bucky's return, and the thought of tackling it alone has you whining at him despite yourself.

“What am I going to do with all those apples now?”

“Ask Peggy to help?” She's never wanted to in the past but it's worth a shot. “Or Dot.”

“Dolores is a chicken! And you know how they just get in the way.”

Bucky chuckles, clearly remembering all the times he's nearly tripped over one of your pet hens. “How are my favourite girls?”

“Good. Missing you sneaking them raisins so maybe it's better you stay over in America.”

“Rude.”

“I got the money you transferred, by the way. Thank you.”

“Don't thank me Y/N, I'll never stop thanking you for giving me this opportunity. I wouldn't be here without you.”

“Glad I could help.”

Someone shouts in the background on Bucky's end and you hear his muffled reply, before he informs you he's got to go get ready.

“What time is it over there?” You ask.

“Nearly nine. We did a night shoot yesterday so we're starting later today.” He sounds so tired you wish you could be there to make sure he's looking after himself.

“Do you have any idea of when you'll get a break?”

“Christmas, definitely, the director is going to Thailand for new years so I'll see you then. I'll make sure of it.”

You say goodbye, trying not to think about just how long away December is.

 

*****

 

“And James actually volunteers to do this?” Peggy huffs, picking twigs out of her hair. The sun is high in the sky when you finish chopping the apples, ready to be crushed in the press, and you agree now is the best time for lunch, along with a well earn sit down. You're grateful for her help, even if she's only here on the condition you provide sandwiches and cake.

“Bucky never needed such persuasion,” You tell her as you pour her a glass of lemonade.

“Then he must really like you.”

“Are you saying you don't?”

“Not in the same way.” You pout at her and she rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

You do. She was the first person to suggest that there could be something more between Bucky and you, and every so often she brings it up again. You're not really in the mood to have this conversation again, and it seems one of your chickens can sense this, choosing that moment to flap up on to the table in search of crumbs, or in this case, a whole shortbread biscuit. Peggy looks at you in question when you don't move to take it off her.

“There's no point trying, when Gloria has something she wants you won't get it back. It won't kill her just this once.”

“Did he name her too?”

You nod, watching as the other hens spot what she has and chase after her. “And Martha, the yellowish one.”

She knows this, she just likes teasing you that the chickens are like yours and Bucky's children. You don't let her mention it again, changing the subject by offering her more crisps, and the afternoon passes quickly once you start working again.

 

*****

 

Even Peggy has to admits she enjoyed herself as she leaves later, clutching several full bottles of juice, and you thank her again as she waves from your front gate.

Back in your kitchen, you sort through the many different vessels you've used, placing the bottle with the prettiest pattern and shape at the back of your store cupboard. That one is for Bucky. You're not sure of the rules around sending liquids in the post, so you're just going to keep it here until you can give it to him in person. You do know it's a bit of an unusual present, but it's the sort of thing he'll like. Or at least you hope he will.

Closing your eyes, you lean your forehead against the edge of the shelf, wondering just when it will be that you can think about something, anything, without it inevitably leading to Bucky. If one of your friends was behaving like this, you'd tell them exactly why you think they're feeling so lost, that it's clear they feel more for the person in question than 'just friends', but you can't admit it to yourself, not now he's gone for good.

Of course you're allowed to miss him, you think to yourself, and obviously you can look forward to seeing him at Christmas, but until then you really need to find something else to occupy your thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me [here on tumblr,](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/) if you want!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky comes home! But only briefly... :(  
> 

Pouring rain on Halloween night means the bowl of sweets by your front door is almost full as you answer the bell for the final few trick-or-treaters. Normally, Bucky helps you decorate the porch and front garden on the Saturday closest to the thirty first, so doing it alone this year was a bit of a challenge, but you're happy with the end result. The witches cat, out for it's third year, sits well by the mini pumpkins and broom, and the motion activated sound effects along the lantern lit path create the perfect atmosphere, just the right side of creepy.

The children certainly seem to approve.

Switching off the fairy lights and putting the leftover treats out of sight and temptation, you curl up on the sofa, scrolling through the pictures you took earlier of your decorations, choosing the best to send to Bucky. By your calculations it should be around midday in Los Angeles, lunch time hopefully, however it's always difficult to judge when he'll have a bit of a break. His replies to your texts have been slow and sporadic, but you understand, and he always apologises for taking so long. Today is a different story though, as the message is marked as read seconds after you send it, and you watch the little bubbles on the bottom of the screen as he types back his response. It's only a short text, saying that he shouldn't really be on his phone right now, but 'Happy Halloween!', and its accompanied by a photo of his own seasonal decorations, a plump pumpkin carved to look like a haunted house. He was always better than you at that kind of thing, you think, as you compare your own efforts with his, marvelling over the intricacy of the design. The picture appears to be taken in his trailer, and you zoom in to the corners, pleased to see it's cosy, homely. You had worried about how he would cope, being thrown in to such a foreign situation, as from the little information Bucky had been able to share, it seemed as though the other actors were old hands at living on set. It looks like Bucky's learned a thing or two from them.

Your reply to his picture goes unread, and you don't expect it to be answered any time soon. It feels like you never have proper back and forth conversations any more, that phone call cancelling his trip home feels like an age ago, and you miss his voice. The first half of the Autumn term wasn't as tough as you thought it would be, Bucky's replacement Peter is as easy to work with, so you have no complaints on that front, its just not quite the same without him.

Later, as you climb into bed, you allow yourself to briefly think about the future. Now that Halloween is done with, Christmas feels just around the corner, and Bucky's return can't come quickly enough.

 

*****

 

Luckily, Autumn quickly rolls to an end, and before you can blink, the annual school disco is upon you. The children look forward to it, and while it is a wonderful way to end the school term, with the combination of sugary drinks and snacks from the tuck shop, the only time they're permitted, the excitement for Christmas, and the speakers blasting classic festive songs, keeping it all under control can be exhausting for the adults.

Taking a breather, you wander through the empty corridors until you can no longer hear the commotion from the assembly room. The cloakrooms between the classroom areas are always a little cooler as they aren't heated, and after the stuffy hall its a welcome break.

Discreetly checking your phone you sigh at the lack of texts. You try not to keep it on you when you're working, not wanting it to be a distraction, but you are waiting on a message from Bucky, not so patiently. You want to know when he's going to be back around here so you can see him, but that's difficult to plan for when he doesn't reply. Leaning against the wall, you scold yourself for being annoyed at how uncommunicative he is, its unfair to expect to be made a priority, and it's not as if you're going to be super busy over the winter break. Whenever he's free you'll make sure you are too.

A door shuts nearby and you pocket your phone, pretending to be interested in the staff board in front of you, showing every teacher, assistant, cleaner and cook on it, your picture sitting at the top of the second column. Footsteps approach as you zone out, staring down the photo of yourself, only half aware that they've stopped beside you.

“Is that who took my place? Looks like one of those cartoon me-mes.”

Frowning, it takes your brain a few moments to work out what is happening.

“A what? Me-”

Turning to face the person who interrupted your bubble of quiet, you gasp, sure you're dreaming.

Bucky stands in front of you, and before he has a chance to say hi properly you're throwing yourself into his arms, only just holding in your squeal of joy as he wraps his arms around you. He smells just as he always did, that combination of three colognes you used to tease him about even though it is an amazing scent on him, and the memories it evokes has you snivelling against his chest.

He soothes you, rocking you with him as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve. “Sorry. I'm just tired I think.”

Nodding understandably against your hair, he hold you tight in his arms until your calmer.

Suddenly remembering his earlier words, you giggle as you pull away. “Me-mes? Really Bucky, you're still such a disaster.”

“And a very merry Christmas to you too.”

Smiling so wide your face hurts, you take him in. He's wearing a yellow visitor badge as opposed to your blue staff lanyard, and it makes him look so out of place even with the familiar surroundings. You note that despite spending nearly half a year in California, he's only slightly more tanned than when he left, but his hair looks different, glossier if possible, and softer. His casual style hasn't changed though, and you're happy to see that faithful puffer jacket he bought a couple of winters ago is still around. You can imagine he's grateful for it, coming back to the shock of single figure temperatures. All in all, he looks so much better than you remembered.

“And anyway,” You say, gesturing to Peter's picture that Bucky commented on, “He's actually really nice. So you should be too.”

“If you say so.”

Snorting, you check your watch. “If you have time, you could meet him?”

“I'd love to, but I've got to get to Dayton's. I didn't say I was coming here first, he'll worry I got stuck in the airport.”

“What do you mean? Haven't you been to his yet?”

“I wanted to see you first.”

“It's not really on the way is it?”

“No, but, worth it.”

Your tummy flips, flattered by his honesty. At a loss of what to say in response, you stare at the notice board behind his head, wondering if he's always had this effect on you and you've just forgotten over the months he's been gone, or if this is a new feeling. Even after an absence of six months he still has such a hold over you.

“What about tomorrow?” You ask after a short silence. “You remember the Christmas lunch? I'm sure we could squeeze you in if you wanted.”

You cross your fingers behind your back, desperate to have him here a little longer.

“Only if they have those potatoes I like.”

Thinking about how you'll make them for him yourself if you have to, you laugh at his condition for attendance, before escorting him back to the entrance foyer and his waiting taxi.

 

*****

 

“Are they not feeding you over there?” You chuckle, watching fondly as Bucky scoffs down a very full plate of dinner. Students and teachers a like have been absolutely delighted to see him again, and he's been given pride of place at the main table, with you squashed in beside him at his insistence. Peggy sits opposite, giving you a significant look every time your eyes meet. She's not pleased that you aren't paying attention to her.

“Well, yeah, but only the really healthy stuff.” He takes a last forkful, scraping at the plate forlornly, before eyeing the food you are yet to eat. Sighing good naturedly, you push it towards him. “Go ahead.”

Thanking you with a grin, he tucks in, quiet until you question him on how long he'll be back.

“Only a couple of days.” He cringes at your confused expression.

“But I thought-”

“I know, I know. But as we've had so many delays because of the weather, everything is so behind, we're basically filming all hours of the day. Most people on set have never seen anything like it, and it's only going to get even more intense. They want to hit the summer season so we're doing all nighters to get it finished.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“And then press and promo, I don't know when I'll get to come home next.”

You don't know what to say. Bucky only arrived yesterday, and now that it looks like he'll be gone by the end of the week you're lost, disappointed and angry at someone or someone's you haven't met.

“Are you at least getting enough sleep?”

He shrugs. “Does anyone in this industry?”

Peter interrupts your conversation before you can continue your interrogation, flopping down between you and Bucky to introduce himself, seemingly in awe of everything about him and his life after Wild Fields Primary School. He knows what you've told him, so not much really, and whilst he tries to dig for more answers from Bucky you force yourself to smile and enjoy the little time you have with him.

 

*****

 

The end of lunch comes too soon and whilst you would love to stay with Bucky, teaching duties call. He's driven himself here so you walk with him back to the door out to the car park, refraining yourself from giving him a hug as it feels inappropriate in front of so many people, but he has no such qualms, and ignoring everyone around, you treasure being so close to him, conscious that it may be a long while until you see him again.

Stepping back eventually, you peer through the drizzle at the car Bucky's hired for the day, only half surprised to clock the luxury badge on the front. Not exactly the little run around he used to own.

“That looks very fancy, really going up in the world aren't you?”

“I'm still me.” He says, smiling bashfully as he presses a kiss to your forehead, before slipping out of the door.

“Just don't you forget about me Bucky Barnes.”

“Never, doll.”

You wave him off, not knowing then that Hollywood has a way of changing people, and that sometimes they can't keep their promises.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Bucky really busy, or just ignoring you?  
> No Bucky in this chapter :( just talk of.  
> 

 

Peggy being made deputy head two years ago was the breath of fresh air the school needed. Government lead reports always came back positive, and the children left happy and ready to take on the world by the end of year six, but like she constantly reminds you, there is always room for improvement. She is particularly good at the non curriculum side of events, the number of after school clubs have doubled since she was put in charge, and she is also keen to keep the day to day school timetable fun.

Take the pancake race. They're not actual pancakes, that could get messy and be a waste of food, so instead the children have decorated round pieces of paper with the topping they would like, which are used in place of the real thing, incorporating both art and sport.

Standing on the playground, you listen delightedly to the excited chatter from your line of Year One's, each blowing out clouds of white steam into the cold air. It's a relatively simple event, just an up and down race attempting to balance their pancake on a saucepan, and you're glad is shouldn't take too long as your fingers are going numb. Bouncing slightly to stop your toes going the same way, you snuggle into your scarf, watching Peter organise the stages smoothly. You've been so impressed by how quickly he's settled in that sometimes you forget he's relatively new. He has a way about him, charming without being sleazy, and you've joked with him before that his youthfulness helps him bond so well with the five and six year olds.

Edwin sidles up next to you and you share a smile, able to tell that he too is relishing the half hour break this activity is giving the two of you, happy to let the teaching assistants be in charge for a bit. It also gives you a chance to catch up, as even with shared lessons a couple of times a week, its a rare occasion when there aren't children to attend to or planning to begin.

“How's Ana?” You inquire. “And the girls?”

“They're good, thank you. Causing mayhem, nothing new.”

“Who, Ana? Or Emilia and Isabella?”

He snickers. “All three. But I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Grinning, you both clap politely as one race ends, before he asks, “Have you heard from James recently?”

His question has your heart sinking. It's innocent in it's intent, he knows how close you two are, and everyone in the staff room has loved the little updates you've been able to give them on their former colleague, but what he doesn't know is that you haven't heard from Bucky in over a month.

The last message you got from him was on new years eve, so technically there's been radio silence from him all year so far. At first it was just like it had been, a week or two with no response hadn't been unusual, but when you flipped your calendar to February and there had still been no interaction it started to become worrying. He's exhausted, that's what you tell yourself, but you can see he's read them, so how hard could it be for him to send a five word reply? As a consequence you'd slowed down your own texts. In the past you had sent one everyday, a little taste of home, of normality, you had hoped, to keep him updated on life back here, but now, looking at the outgoing compared to the non existent incoming, you are filled with embarrassment.

“Err no, but you know how it is. Always busy.”

“I'm sure he'll call when he can.”

You want to believe that's true, but with every passing day it seems less and less likely.

 

*****

 

A shake up of your routine in the form of a birthday party invitation is very welcome in early March. Little Benjamin is not so little any more, as signified by the big number three balloons floating around the living room, remarkably tidy given the number of toddlers running about. It's peculiar being here without Bucky acting as a buffer between his extended family and you, and you realise how much you hid behind him at such events. Sometimes quite literally.

Needing a minute by yourself after the birthday boy finishes blowing out the candles, you retreat to the kitchen. That's where Dayton's wife, Sophia, catches you red handed, shovelling down your third slice of cake. You try to apologise but she shakes her head with a grin, grabbing a plate herself and tucking in. Leaning against the cabinets next to you, she declines your offer when you motion towards the coffee pot, making you frown, knowing her love of caffeine.

She explains her actions. “Don't tell Day I told you before he could, but we're expecting again.”

It was more a case of when not if they had another child, they were both such natural parents, and this news has you tearing up as you mumble your congratulations through a mouthful of icing. Embracing her delicately, hyper aware of not crushing her, you wonder if Bucky already knows. When he'd been sworn to secrecy about their first baby, it had taken him less than a day to break that oath and tell you, and surely family would be told first, so has he managed to keep the secret this time? Or is this more evidence that he's forgotten about you?

Distracting yourself from those dark thoughts, you start speaking in a rush. “How far along are you? Are you going to find out the gender? Does Benjamin know?”

Giggling at your enthusiasm, she gently coaxes you back into the sitting room whilst she answers your queries. “We haven't told Benjamin yet, because as soon as he knows, the whole world will too, so it's just family for now. We'll tell him soon.”

“He'll be such a good older brother.”

“Like Bucky is to Dayton.”

“Nineteen minutes isn't much older,” You chuckle, despite the knot in your tummy at the mention of his name.

She excuses herself to play host, leaving you alone, and open to being coerced into a game of snakes and ladders on a giant floor mat.

 

*****

 

By the end of the afternoon you're worn out, wondering how parents do this all day. Helping tidy up after the rest of the guests left has nearly done you in, and you're close to nodding off on the sofa when Dayton comes to invite you to stay for dinner

“Or do you want me to drive you home?” He asks, amused.

“I came on the train, you don't need to bother yourself.”

“Not a bother, come on, I'll drop you off at the station.”

Relenting gratefully, you wish a sleepy Benjamin a happy birthday again, squeeze Sophia lightly, and let Dayton lead you out to the driveway and into one of his more modest cars.

Gliding smoothly up the drive and indicating to turn onto the main road, his voice only just keeps you awake. “Sophia told you about the baby?”

Remembering her earlier words, you feign ignorance. “Baby?”

He laughs at your unconvincing acting. “I know she did, I could tell by the way you hugged her goodbye. It's okay, I don't mind she got there first.”

“I'm really happy for you both.”

“Thank you.”

The drive continues in a comfortable silence, and you study his profile as he concentrates on the road. It's almost painful looking at him when he looks so much like his twin. His hair is a bit shorter and straighter, and he may be a few centimetres taller, but everything else is identical, even down to the way he sits behind the wheel, casually confident.

The image makes your heart ache.

“Have you,” You start, unsure what to say. “Have you heard from Bucky recently?”

You try to sound nonchalant, as if his answer is unimportant.

“Yeah. Why, what's he said?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing at all for two months,” You admit quietly. It feels good to tell someone, however pitiful it makes you seem.

“What do you mean-” Glancing over, he notices your eyes filling, and checking his mirrors, slams on the brakes. Flung forward in your seat, you brace your hands against the dashboard as he steers the car to the side of the street. It's a controlled stop because of his driving experience, he didn't crash his racing car because he was a bad driver, but that doesn't mean it's any less scary for you. Pulling on the hand brake, he turns to you, waiting until your breathing is calmer to talk.

“So tell me, what has my idiot of a brother done now?”

Your heart is still racing as you think of how to explain. Bucky hasn't really done anything, has he? There was never a discussion about how often you would contact each other, you had just thought that, with modern technology, a couple of lines a week wouldn't be asking too much.

Dayton breaks through your inner debate.

“Okay, I wasn't going to say this because I didn't think it meant anything, but Bucky was all mopy last time I saw him, and now I see you're not any better. What on earth is going on?”

Ignoring most of his statement, you focus on the confusing bit. “When did you see him?”

“Last week. I assumed he'd go to see you too but clearly not.”

“He was over here?”

He nods. “You haven't said anything to him either?”

“No,” You sniff, wiping at the tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. “I don't know what I've done wrong.”

Sighing, he pulls you into a hug, letting you cry into his collar. “You haven't done anything wrong. It's just... He's always been so stupid when it comes to you.”

You don't know if you should be offended by that or not, however you are too tired to work out or ask him to explain, being so emotionally vulnerable in front of someone can be draining. Finding out that Bucky is definitely avoiding you and it's not in your head has hit you hard, and it takes you a while to slow the tears and untangle yourself from Dayton.

Sitting back in your seat, he starts the car again and you spend the rest of the journey thinking of anything but Bucky. Or at least trying to. Opening your window a crack you lean your head on the frame, the cool air helping revive you and dry your eyes, and you appreciate the radio being turned up as a distraction.

Parking in front of the small railway station, he makes sure you're feeling okay, convinced you're better from the smile as you dodge away from his attempts to fix a woolly hat on your head.

“I'm not cold!”

He tucks it in to your pocket anyway, “Just in case.”

Checking that a train is arriving soon, he only allows you out of the car as the front lights of the engine come into view along the line. Thanking him, you close the passenger door, and as you're making your way to the platform he calls through the window out to you.

“He'll be in touch soon.”

“I hope so.”

“He will. And we're always here, you know that.”

“I do.”

Waving goodbye you board the train, thankful now more than ever to have him in your life. Whilst he's not Bucky, he's still holds the same affection in your heart. You've known Dayton, and Sophia and Benjamin, as long as you've known the eldest Barnes twin, and maybe they're all you have to remind you of him now.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A horrible reunion is on the way...  
> 

The daffodils have passed their best now, bright bluebells filling their place, providing bursts of colour in the woodlands you pass through as you make your way home from yet another Saturday spent with Sophia. She's kept you so busy over the last few weeks you feel like you've neglected your other friends, and it's no longer a lie when you tell them you're out at the weekend.

It's obvious what she's doing. Dayton must have told her what is, or is not, as the case may be, going on between you and Bucky, and all these meet ups are an attempt to distract you. Sophia claims that with being a fairly new mum with another baby on the way, and working from home, she herself is the one in need of adult company and actually, you're the one doing her a favour by agreeing to lunch dates and afternoon meet ups in the park.

You half believe that's true. When Dayton was sent to a specialist rehabilitation hospital in the UK after his car crash, Sophia followed him without question, and they both agreed to move here permanently once his treatment was complete. That was over four years ago, but you know she still feels isolated sometimes.

Benjamin now knows he's soon to have a younger sibling, and his excited babbling about being a brother is adorable to the point where any issues surrounding his uncle and you are gone from your mind. You can imagine Dayton at his age, running around with his twin brother in that tiny backyard in New York. The image of the two of them together, making the most of their simple upbringing, has always warmed your heart, and you're determined to only remember the happy times now.

 

*****

 

One down side of having a much more active social schedule is not being able to fit in your normal activities, and as such your cupboards are bare, so a trip to the local store is in order, just about rushing through the check out before closing.

The bell on the shops front door chimes as you push it open with your hip, not watching where you're going as you struggle to hold the boxes of cereal you couldn't fit in the overflowing carrier bag, only managing to take one step before colliding with another costumer trying to enter. The box of cornflakes is knocked from your grip and hits the ground, joined with the rest of your shopping as you look up and realise who you've just crashed in to.

“Bucky.”

It feels like a lifetime since you last saw him.

All the past months of zero communication and the resulting heartbreak is forgotten as you scan his face, taking in every little detail, so familiar and foreign all at once. Movie stylists work hard to keep their stars appearance the same for the duration of filming to help with consistency, so his hair and tan is pretty much unchanged, but there's a look in his eyes you've not seen before.

Concerned by his frown, you rattle questions off at him, expecting to get a smile in return. “Where have you been hiding? It's so good to see you! What ha-”

Moving towards him, you reach up for a hug, but instead of him accepting your embrace you're pushed away, none too gently. Staggering slightly to keep your balance, you stare at him in shock, words failing you.

Bucky's expression turns cold as he crosses his arms.

“Sometimes Y/N,” He sneers, “People move halfway across the world to get away from other people, and they still can't quite shake them off.”

It sounds like he speaking from a mile away. It takes a few seconds to process what he's said, and then you can do nothing but stand mutely in front of him, your world crashing around your feet. He's not spoken to you like that before, in fact you've never heard his voice so icy in any context, the unfamiliar tone frightening as it's directed at you.

The lack of texts for nearly four months sent a message he didn't have the courtesy to, but despite that, and knowing that he'd been in England and not bothered to call, you still held on to a sliver of hope that, maybe, when you saw him again it would all be explained away as a misunderstanding and you'd go back to normal. Now that's lost to the wind.

Stuttering, you try to fix this mess, “What do-”

He cuts you off. “I've paid back the money you lent. I should be free of you and you're pathetic clingy-ness. So please, for the love of everything, take a fucking hint.”

Not giving you a chance to say any more, he brushes past you, hurrying in the direction of his waiting taxi. Gasping as the tears start to flow, you struggle to breathe through them as you twist to watch him walk away, at a loss of what to do.

It wasn't meant to end like this. You'd already felt like you'd lost him when he initially left last summer, then all over again with Dayton's revelation that he'd purposefully avoided you,and now it seems there's no coming back for the two of you.

The bells sound again as the door is opened behind you. “Oh, Y/N! I didn't expect to see you until Monday- wait, what's wrong?”

Turning around, partially blinded by your tears, you're met with a worried Peggy. Her gaze slips behind you, eyes narrowing when she spots Bucky closing the car door. It doesn't take her long to put it together.

She tuts. “What did he say?”

“He hates me,” You manage to choke out.

“Oh darling, he didn't-”

“He did!”

Your outburst surprises Peggy. In an effort to soothe you she brings you in for a hug, murmuring apologies to you even though she is not at fault. Crying onto the faux fur of her hood, you break.

“I love him.” Burrowing yourself further into her arms, you finally admit the one thing you've been denying for years, too scared of the consequences. It looks like it doesn't matter any more. “I love him, and he hates me.”

That's why it hurts so much, because you miss him more than you've missed anyone in your life, and you can't believeyou didn't realise how much he meant to you before.

Peggy makes a soothing noise as she holds you closer. You're glad she's not gloating over you confirming her suspicions at last, and when she quietly suggests you come back with her tonight, you agree, not wanting to be alone right now. Your shopping is left scattered, long forgotten, as she silently leads the way to her house, giving you a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts.

Walking slowly, you catch sight of the security light at the school, shiningfrom the other end of the road. It's the middle of the weekend already, and you quash the rising dread at entering that building that holds so many memories.

The one thing you do know is that you can't let this ruin your job. You've worked too hard to get to where you are to lose it all because of Bucky, so you'll just have to ignore the ghosts and get on with the rest of your life.

After all, it's a new week on Monday, with more lessons to plan and fresh leaves to turn over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Bucky was so awful! I don't like to but for the story it's necessary :( Hopefully it all works out in the end...


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Easter holidays and ignoring Bucky's show; all anyone can talk about.  
> 

 

Waking up early on Monday, you take a few moments to just lay there, enjoying the quiet. You know today will be difficult, no matter how many promises of letting go and moving on you've made to yourself. Five more minutes avoiding the inevitable won't hurt.

Peggy had insisted you stayed until late afternoon yesterday, not wanting you to be alone too soon, but you couldn't intrude on her for too long. The short walk back to your house felt like a marathon as you past right by the house Bucky used to rent a flat in, and you couldn't stop yourself from glancing through the hedge and into the window that used to be his lounge. The 'for let' sign was up again, another neighbour moving on some place new, and you'd quickly slipped on your sunglasses, not wanting any pupils to see their teacher crying in the street. Reaching home, you were surprised to find your abandoned shopping placed neatly inside your porch. Looking a little scuffed and bashed, but nonetheless edible, you'd brought it inside as you wondered who you had to thank.

Dayton had called you yesterday evening, under the guise of just checking in, but you had a feeling it was more than that, and it didn't take long to get it out of him. Bucky had turned up at his place on Saturday night, after you'd seen him, and when Dayton had taken the opportunity to ask about what was happening between the two of you he'd taken off again.

“Didn't give me a chance to go after him. Straight back in his taxi and puff, gone.”

“Where's he now then?” You'd asked, worried despite everything. You can't just switch your feelings off overnight.

“On his way back to America, according to one of his cast mates. Buck's not answering my calls.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

“What if it is!” You'd exclaimed. “What if I've caused a wedge between you and him? Just because he hates me shouldn't mean he-”

Dayton interrupted, bewildered. “Whoa, what? Hates you? What's going on?”

Trying to summarise Saturdays events, the tears made an appearance again. He was just as astounded and angry as Peggy was, sure you must have heard Bucky wrong, but you know what he said.

You don't think you'll ever forget it.

“Don't you worry about it, I'll find out what's going on.” Dayton had hung up with a promise.

Pulled back from your reminiscing by your alarm, you sigh and slide out of bed, hoping to get this day over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

 

*****

 

Easter is late this year, a blessing as it means you only have to make it through a short week before the school breaks for a fortnight. Even three and a half days feel like forever, especially as the upset caused by seeing Bucky again, and everything that came with it, has you running on hardly any sleep.

His television show has clearly wrapped, the promotion in full swing, and all the children at school can talk about is the trailer. You haven't been able to bring yourself to watch it yet, which is why it comes as such a shock during lunch break on Tuesday when a double decker bus rolls past the front gates, his image plastered on the side, two times larger than life. You vaguely recognise the actor he's standing beside, but you're too dazed to think straight.

Noticing your frozen figure staring after the bus, Peggy comes across to stand with you, a comforting hand on your arm as you turn to her open mouthed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You spin back to the playground where all the children who also saw the advert are straining to see it again. “Have you watched the trailer?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Then yes. It actually looks quite good.”

“Of course it does,” You mutter bitterly.

“Sam Wilson is always great.”

You nod in agreement. No wonder Bucky had been so excited to get this role, there weren't many actors he placed higher than Sam Wilson, and getting to work with him was probably a dream come true.

It's just a shame that dream didn't involve you.

 

*****

 

By the time Thursday afternoon arrives you feel like you need the two weeks off just to sleep. A few pencils were snapped when you suddenly remembered Bucky's words to you but other than that, you managed to get through to the end of term with no major break downs.

The holiday comes at a good time weather wise too, and you bask in the sun with the chickens for most of the first weekend. You're happy the hens got to enjoy a few full days of freedom in the garden, as when you open their coop the next morning, little Dot isn't moving.

It is obvious she's gone.

Moving her away from the others as you find the spade to dig her a final resting place, you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. She was always Bucky's favourite, smaller than the others and picked on more because of it, he made sure she never missed out on treats.

Replacing the earth after you bury her in a shady spot under the willow, you find a tall, pretty daisy to plant in loose soil over her, before slumping down on to the bench nearby, exhausted both physically and mentally. Most people laughed when you said you had such pets, not understanding how a farm animal could be as interesting and rewarding as a more conventional companion, but then they met them and understood your love. It's always hard when you lose one, harder still when the person you long to speak to about it has made it clear he doesn't want you in his life any more.

When Sophia comes to stay during the second week she brings Benjamin, and flowers in sympathy for your loss. She gets it. Helping her unpack her weekend bag, you listen to her chatter away about her plans for the nursery, and how they're trying to squeeze one last holiday in before they become a family of four.

Dayton's on a trip back home, very last minute, and he'd asked you if you minded keeping Sophia company for the couple of days he's away. He didn't say why he's going back to the USA but you have an idea, it would be too much of a coincidence so soon after Bucky disappeared from his driveway after your confrontation. Regardless of your own feelings that it would be pointless to try and talk him round, you wish him luck in his quest.

She knows about the current situation surrounding you and Bucky, but ever the optimist, she's convinced that it's nothing more than a silly argument that will be resolved in a few weeks. You don't have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, you busy yourself with keeping Sophia and Benjamin fed, watered and entertained, playing the perfect host to hide your pain.

 

*****

 

School holidays used to drag on forever when you were a child, however now you work there it feels like you blink and it's over. You're not too disappointed to be back, however, as the summer term is the most enjoyable in your experience, the lighter evenings meaning you don't feel so confined in your home after you finish for the day, and the children seem more happy and carefree in the warmer weather.

There were also more dates in the calender this time of year, it'll be sports day again before long, but first, the May Day celebrations. You hadn't been involved in the organisation of this years fête, and as you stare at the poster and the announcement of the 'extra special star guest', you really wish you had. Ripping the flyer off the wall, you march to Peggy's office, not bothering to knock before you burst in so it's lucky she's alone.

“What the hell is this?”

“I could ask you the same, Y/N.” She stands from her desk, moving to close the door behind you. “You can't just charge in here unannounced. We've got to at least pretend to be professional.”

She's joking but you're not laughing, shoving the offending piece of paper into her hands, causing her smile to slip.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Why the hell didn't you tell me he was coming?” You pace as you rant. “Why the hell is he coming? What has he got to do with anything! And you must have some sort of input in this, why did you let it happen?”

“I'm sorry Y/N. What was I meant to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Without airing yours and his private lives, there's nothing I could’ve done!”

She's right. Huffing in frustration, you hold your tongue. You can't afford to lose two friends in less than half a year, and you know Peggy hasn't done this on purpose, now you think about it rationally Bucky being there would bring a lot of attention to the schools humble spring fête. You can no longer go on any website, or watch TV, without seeing his face. Whatever the show is about you're not sure, as you still haven't got the strength to watch any of the dozens of videos hanging around, but it's clear it's going to be the next big sensation. That Bucky is going to be the next big sensation.

You guess you're going to have to suck it up and ignore your heartache, just for one day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot's of Bucky in the next chapter, I promise! And maybe an explanation or two...
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!! Feedback is very welcome if you would like :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer fête is upon you! And Bucky returns again.  
> 

The day of the fête dawns bright and breezy. Perfect conditions, you couldn't really ask for more given the time of year, but that doesn’t stop the scowl forming on your face as you make the short walk to school. Going in to work on a Saturday always feels somewhat wrong, and that uneasy feeling is multiplied ten times knowing who's going to be there.

It's been a tough week, hiding how you actually feel about Bucky returning when the children are besides themselves, excited to welcome back such a star. Everyone remembers how inseparable the two of you were when he worked here, and as far as they know, nothings changed, so there's been a few awkward conversations in the past days where you've not known if your fake excitement has been believable. Only Peggy knows the truth. Edwin has his suspicions, you know, after witnessing your less than enthusiastic reactions to the prospect of your supposed best friend visiting, and he'd patted your hand gently when you'd slumped next to him in the staff room one lunchtime.

“Coming back home helps people realise what they've missed,” He'd said cryptically, leaving you to your sandwiches. A tiny flicker of hope had flared at his words, one you'd quickly push down. Edwin hadn't heard Bucky that day, didn't know how vicious he'd been, or the cruel look in his eye as he'd broken your heart. Your colleagues kindness is appreciated, but at this point there doesn't seem any chance of saving what you had.

 

*****

 

Reaching the school, you breathe evenly to keep yourself calm. Somebody’s got hold of a cardboard cut-out of Bucky's character, whatever his name may be, and it's currently resting in the entrance hall alongside the crates of bric-a-brac and sweets for the tombola stand you're tending.

Just looking at his picture makes you feel sick. It doesn't help that his face has almost the same look on it as last time you saw him, that piercing glower sending a shiver through you. From what you've overheard the programme he's in is a sort of comedy drama, based around comic book characters, which explains his metal arm and combat gear, and the dramatic, side on pose, that you would have teased him about in better times.

Peggy brushes past you, breaking your staring match with the two dimensional image of Bucky as she grabs a box. You also pick one up, following her out to the table where a Year Three is carefully arranging the prizes on your stall. It takes a while to organise all the items neatly, and you get so sucked into a conversation with your little helper, Edwin's oldest daughter, Isabella, that you nearly forget why you were dreading this day.

A laugh, so recognisable, floats across the playground in your direction and you drop the saucer you're holding. Thankfully it doesn't shatter, and you turn your head subtly to look over, breath hitching as you catch sight of him, flanked by the head teacher and too many students to count. Isabella clearly wishes to join them, and you let her go, needing a little time alone to process his presence.

Your hands are visibly trembling. If you thought you felt ill earlier it's nothing compared to now, you haven’t prepared yourself to actually be within eyesight of Bucky again, and you sag, taking a seat before your legs give out. Peggy passes by, spots the source of your terror, and squeezes your shoulder comfortingly.

“I'm okay.” You smile through your lie, staring over at the growing group of children wanting attention from Hollywood's newest heartthrob. Bucky runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his you remember well, and you notice that the length of his waves is much shorter than in all the promotional pictures and videos.

“I didn't even spot that. Must be a wig.” Peggy muses, thinking along the same line as you. “Why don't you ask?” She looks at you expectantly, remaining confident that you and Bucky can sort out your differences.

Glaring, you choose not to reply. You're still annoyed at her for letting this come to be, even though you know it's not her fault. Realising you're not in the mood to hear her thoughts, she part ways silently to attend to her own duties, leaving you alone to spy on Bucky from a distance.

He appears to be being as friendly and patience with the children as he always was. Watching him smile as they congregate around his feet, he looks so far away from the man who caused you so much pain just a couple of weeks ago.

The student given the honour of showing him around starts to lead him towards your side of the field and you panic and do the one thing you can, slipping off your chair and under your stall, pulling the billowing tablecloth back in front of your body. Keeping quiet, you wait in the shadows feeling like a coward. The group roams by the cave you've made for yourself, and you breathe again, reassured that he's going to be busy officially opening the fête in a couple of minutes. Taking a second to make sure he's long gone, the last thing you expect is anyone to find you.

“Why are you hiding?”

Jumping in shock, you hit your head on the bottom of the table as you're greeted by the face of Isabella again. She's observing you with a slight frown, crouching down to sit opposite you. Rubbing the sore spot at the top of your head, you think of how to excuse your strange behaviour.

“Is it because Mr Barnes is someone else's best friend now?” She asks bluntly before you have a chance to explain yourself. “Or was he mean to you?”

You laugh in surprise, shaking your head at her forwardness. She's spot on somehow, and then you remember meeting her mother and it's obvious where she gets it from.

“He wasn't mean to me. Look.” Shoving a postcard in your face, you take it from her. It's the same picture of the two characters that has been everywhere for the last month, this one scribbled across with a black pen, a rushed copy of Bucky's signature. Not the one he uses for official paperwork, you can see, rather just the first half in a fancier script, and with a smiley face at the end.

The sight brings a lump to your throat.

“That's lovely, Isabella.”

“We always thought you'd get married to him,” She whispers conspiratorially.

Biting your tongue to stop yourself swearing in front of a seven year old, and a pupil, you struggle to find the right thing to say.

“Oh really. And who's 'we'?”

“Everyone. Even Daddy.”

Blinking, stunned, you diffuse the situation quickly, rising from under the table and brushing yourself down as you help her up too.

“I've just had an idea. Wouldn't your parents like to see your signed poster? Look, there they are,” You point her in their direction, “Why don't you go show them?”

She skips off happily and you rest your weight on the edge of the table, overwhelmed. How you were unaware of everyone's gossip about your relationship with Bucky, you don't know, and it must be bad if even the younger children are involved.

Pressing your fingers into your temple, you sigh, longing for this day to be done with.

There's a shuffling in the deserted vegetable patch at the back of your stand, probably another teacher taking a break from the mayhem of the day, and you pay them no mind until they come to a stop behind you.

“Y/N.”

Closing your eyes, you don't need to turn around to know who it is. The universe just doesn't want to give you a break today. When you continue to face away from him, he squeezes between your tent and the next until he's standing directly in front of you.

“Hello.” Bucky offers you a small smile and you gawk at his nerve.

What is he trying to achieve here? Hasn't he hurt you enough? There's nothing you want to say to him, not here, not like this, so controlling your expression you coolly meet his gaze.

“James.”

He winces at the name. You haven't called him that for years, he only allows close friends and family to address him as Bucky, and it became apparent you'd be one of his closest very early on.

Despite your attitude, he pushes on. “Can I talk to you?”

“I think you've done quite enough talking,” You mutter under your breath. He hears, evident from the shock flashing over his face, and you feel a jolt of spiteful joy at the way he takes half a step back.

There's currently no one looking to buy a ticket for your tombola, which you use to your advantage. “Got to get a drink, sorry!” You call over your shoulder, keeping up the pretence of still being on good terms, for the sake of the students.

Bucky moves to pursue you with a desperate cry of your name that you ignore, escaping as he's once again mobbed by his new fans.

 

*****

 

Later, as you pack up your stall, it's apparent Bucky doesn't want to talk to you that urgently, as there's no sign of him now the crowds have gone. You don't know if you feel relieved or disappointed. You'd sent Isabella back to her father, mostly to let her enjoy her weekend, but also because you don't think you'd survive another round of her questioning. For a seven year old, she is remarkably perceptive, and her age means she still lacks the social graces to know when to stop.

You've made quite a bit from your sales, the amount in the cash tin picks your mood up, and as a treat for surviving being in the same location as Bucky you buy the biggest cake you can from the catering stand. Today has been exhausting and you crave a little solitude to unwind.

 

*****

 

That night, you can't sleep again. The winds picked up during the evening, throwing branches from the small tree in the front garden against your bedroom window, but that's not the sole reason you're awake. Your mind hasn't stopped racing since your interaction with Bucky. Why did he have to come back and confuse your feelings further? Your head hurts, and not from the bump earlier, the swirling emotions preventing you from relaxing enough to get any rest.

Admitting defeat, you sit up and stare at the wall. The clock on your bedside table reads two forty seven, and you decide that that is an excellent time to go for a walk down the lane. Sliding your feet into the easiest shoes you can, your gardening wellies, you pull on your coat and pick up your keys, quietly opening and relocking your front door as you embrace the fresh air. Wandering with no particular destination in mind, you find yourself pausing in front of the school. The pass-code is entered into the side gate before you can really think about it, and you slowly crunch along the gravel path up to the adventure play area.

That's when you see them. Your blood runs cold as you freeze, cursing yourself for not bringing your phone with you, the figure sitting on the swings resembling something out of those horror movies you've always avoided. Assessing your surroundings, you consider the option of blending into the bushes nearby until the stranger has left.

Then they move and you nearly cry in relief that it's not a serial killer out to get stupid teachers breaking into school in the middle of the night. There's no mistaking that hair, even in the artificial orange glow of the street lights, and your heart rate remains at the same frantic pace as a new fear over takes you.

You could walk away, pretend you haven't seen him, and just get on with your life knowing you won't have to talk him ever again if you wish. Or you could confront him, and maybe get some answers to your many questions. The second options wins, even though the thought of your warm, safe bed, that doesn't hate you, is very tempting, you know you won't feel right until you've had it out with him.

Pulling your coat tighter around your front, shaking not just from the cold, you approach Bucky, preparing yourself for a conversation you probably won't like.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky answers for his behaviour next chapter, promise!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 - double figures! And Bucky finally explains himself.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 6 days late and I'm so sorry :( Hopefully a few people still remember what’s happened nearly two weeks later...! There's a long, badly-written-not-very-clear-posted-only-in-the-tags, sort of explanation on tumblr if you wanna know why it's so late...  
> Otherwise, thank you for reading!

 

 

“Do I need to remind you of the no alcohol on school premises rule? Even fancy Hollywood types like you aren't exempt.”

You announce your presence a couple of meters away from Bucky's shadowy form, not wanting to get too close in case his flight or fight response results in a fist to your face. He still jumps, understandably,it is three in the morning inside a locked playground after all. The chains of the swing clank together as he twists in his seat to face you, and you maintain eye contact, acting braver than you're feeling, aware that there's no running away.

He's gaping at you in an almost comical way. You feel bad for giving him such a fright, but a minuscule part of you is pleased, wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is strained.

“I could ask you the same.” You gesture at the bottle he's clasping. “What's that? Didn't think you liked wine much.”

“Oh, no.” He offers it towards you, dropping his arm when you scrunch your nose up, baffled. “It's the apple juice we made last year.”

A hundred bitter-sweet memories flash through your head as he says that, of golden leaves, laden branches hanging low over the lawn, and you and Bucky splashing each other with the hosepipe meant to rinse the fruit. It also reminds you that you never gave him this years efforts, not having the time at Christmas with his flying visit. The glass has long since been forgotten to collect dust.

You move to take the swing next to his, and for a long moment you sit silently together, listening to the branches creek in the wind.

Eventually he turns to you. “Can I talk to you now?”

Arching an eyebrow in permission, you wait for him to continue. As he gathers his thoughts, his gaze flits across your face, over your hair, down to your shoes, raising half a smile at the mud covered wellington's.

You can't have him laughing at you. “Don't even think about being disrespectful about my choice of footwear. I was not dealing with laces at three in the morning.”

He snorts. “Fuck, I've missed you.”

That was unexpected. “I thought I was pathetically clingy?”

His smile drops. “Probably help if I apologised.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely.” He fidgets before continuing. “There's so much I need to say, I don't know where to start. You deserve a proper explanation, a proper apology, but my heads still so over the place.”

“Don't worry about any of that. I just want to know why you hate me so much.”

“I don't hate you at all!”

“Sure got a funny way of showing that.”

His grip on the chains tightens, trying to catch your eye. “Y/N, please. I didn't mean any of what I said.”

“Then why?”

He doesn't answer immediately, pushing his feet into the soft rubber flooring as he swallows, emitting a small noise not unlike a whimper.

“I suppose it's okay to tell you, it'll be in the news soon enough.”

You're intrigued, confused and worried all at once. “What will?”

Taking a deep breath, he glances away as he begins to speak.

“I thought I was going to live my dream when I got this job. And I was, for the first weeks and months. It was going so well, how could it not? Especially when I was working alongside people like Sam Wilson, you know how much I admire him.”

You fight off a smirk. He's making it easy to fall back into the familiar playful ways, but you need to hear him out before you start showing any cracks in your armour.

“Coming back at Christmas was when it started to go wrong. That was when I realised that maybe I had everything I wanted when I was still here. It was hard to be reminded of my old life and everything I missed when I was severely sleep deprived and nearly losing hair to the stress my directer was putting me through.”

“We wrapped in early spring, then it was just voice-over work. I didn't have to be on set every day and I came back here straight away, needing a break from it all. Then I all but knocked you over outside the shop and just snapped.”

“I wasn't coping and all I could think about is how I wouldn't have even been in this position had it not been for you. As stupid as it sounds, I blamed you for the shit I'd found myself in, for pushing me to go.”

“That doesn't exactly explain-”

“I know. I'm getting there.” You keep quiet and let him talk. “Once it was confirmed the show would get a prime time slot, it all got real. Suddenly all the 'unknowns' like me had dollar signs hanging over our heads. Representatives knew we'd be bringing in money now, and fresh faces attract sponsorships if you work it right. My agent was not the sort to know that though, or anything useful really. Other managers would do a much better job, I wouldn't have chosen him if I had a choice, he was just assigned to me at the start and I hadn't had the chance to do anything about it until then. I hadn't signed any extension contracts yet and he wasn't pleased. So he tried to keep me in his collection.”

“Collection? Eww.”

“Yep. He didn't want to lose me, and so he started with the threats.”

“What do you mean by threats?”

“Dayton's got his own security, even now, and couldn't be touched, so he threatened you. Said he had people close by who could get to you if I didn't do as I was told.”

“What the hell?” You hiss. Your brain can't keep up. “I never...” Thinking back over the last few months, you can't recall ever feeling unsafe or watched in any way.

“No, you wouldn't have. He probably wouldn't have ever done anything but I couldn't take that chance, not when he hinted at links to the Mafia. I just wanted you safe, and the only way I could see that happening was if I made it so you never wanted to see me again. If you weren't even my friend that dick couldn't hold anything over you. That way we'd both be happy. Happy-ish.”

His eyes are glassy as he looks over at you. You're finding it hard to take it all in, trying to find the correct response.

You start with a question. “You said you could tell me 'cos it'll be in the news. Why is that?”

He blows out a breath. “Dayton. Soon as he realised something was wrong he was straight on a plane to force it out of me. He must have got a private detective or something on the case because a few days later my agent was arrested. Turns out he wasn't just awful at his job, he was also involved with manipulating young girls into seedy parties. You don't want to know,” His haunted look proves his statement. “All that matters is he's in custody now. Definitely a prison sentence, a long one hopefully.”

“Day got me a good lawyer too. My names not going to be involved in any way. I didn't know any of that stuff was going on, you have to know that. And there's more than enough evidence without me taking the stand as a witness anyway.”

He seems to have come to the end and you sit wordlessly together again. It's too early in the morning for you to process what he's said, leading to you blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“You do realise this sounds like you made it up, right? I'm having trouble believing such an improbable seeming story.”

“I _wish_ I was making it up. I'm not surprised you don't think I'm telling the truth, what with the way I've acted, but when you see it on the news you'll know.” He laughs humourlessly. “Not exactly how I wanted to start my career.”

You bet. “You still didn't have to be so mean to me that night.”

“I know.”

“The Bucky I knew wouldn't have talked to me like that.”

“I know. I wasn't myself at all and I can only apologise. It hasn't been a fun couple of months but it's over now. I promise no matter what happens I won't let it involve you again.” He sighs. “It's not worth it if I lose you along the way.”

“You haven't lost me Bucky,” You whisper, meaning it.

You share a tearful look which says more than words ever could. However strong you told yourself to be, he's always been your weakness, and time hasn't changed that. As you stare at each other, you can see he's telling the truth, and now you've got to work out how you move forward together.

The moment is brought to an end as you shiver, a particularly strong gust lifting the ends of your hair.

“I should walk you home before you freeze to death in your pyjamas,” He teases.

“Hey! My pyjamas are cute.”

“Never said they weren't.”

He smiles softly, standing up and offering you a hand. You take it, the warm skin against yours so familiar you pull away as soon as you're stood, too many emotions flowing through you at the slightest touch.

Following his lead back across the playground and into the lane, a comfortable silence surrounds you, almost like all those times you'd make your way home together when he lived just a few streets down from you. Almost.

Bucky opens your gate for you, and comes to a stop outside your front door, hesitating before patting you gently on the shoulder. Turning around, he walks slowly back up the front path, and you can't just let him leave. Not again.

The hurt is still there but tonight’s revelations have changed everything and the chance of having him back in your life is all you can think of.

“Bucky!”

He whips back round. “Yeah?”

“It's half-term next week. It you're still around, maybe we could do something?

“Really?” You nod. “Yes. Definitely! We have to wait and see if we're recommissioned, so I was just going to hang around for a while. You can text me when you're free.” He fishes for his phone in his jeans. “I've got a new number, let me give it to you.”

“Mines upstairs, wait a minute.”

You rush up to your bedroom, shaking your head at Bucky's incredulous, “Seriously, who goes anywhere without a mobile these days?” Floating up after you.

Coming back down, you open up your contacts so he can add himself. “Not everyone has Sam Wilson on speed dial like you,” You counter, causing Bucky to blush. “Oh my gosh, you do! Which number is he? One?”

“All right, that's enough.”

You grin at him, a real smile, and his face is similarly bright as he hands back your phone and steps away.

“I'm glad we ran into each other Y/N. Even at such an unsocial hour.”

“So am I. Hey, have you got somewhere to stay tonight? Or do you want to-”

“I'm good, don't worry.” He pauses at the end of the garden. “See you soon, hopefully.”

This time you let him leave, and as you climb up to bed again, it feels as though a great weight has been lifted and a peaceful nights sleep is within reach once more.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The magic of an old diner and it's healing pancakes  
> 

 

 ****Sitting in the car-park, watching the flashing neon sign above the 'American Diner' minutes off the bypass outside the village, you fight with yourself to not turn the engine back on and drive away. Last weeks talk has answered most of your questions, and you're now receiving replies to texts within an hour of sending them to Bucky, but you still feel nervous about actually seeing him again.

He's already inside, you spotted him talking with the owner just like he always did when you used to come. Quite early on in your friendship you'd dragged him along in order to see how authentic he thought the food and ambience was, and since then it had become a little tradition for you to spend Saturday evening's together trying out different combinations of pancake toppings and planning a road trip around his home country you never got around to taking.

Picking at the fraying end of the tassel on your keys, you wonder if it will ever be as easy between the two of you again.

You fell in love with Bucky over milkshakes and fries, working out which states you'd visit and in what order, listening intently as he spoke of long car journeys as a teenager, escaping the city as soon as Dayton got his licence. He desperately wanted to show you where he grew up, but the timing was never right, so you settled with taking him back to your home town instead. You hadn't exactly moved a great distance, just nine stops along the line on the slow train, so whenever the weather was nice during the summer one of you would pack a picnic and spend the day strolling along the river side. Sometimes you invited your parents to join you, delighted at how well Bucky got along with them.

You're forever grateful to them for not pushing you when you claimed you were just friends, knowing they could see something more there, but not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

You're brought back to the present by your phone lighting up with a message from Bucky, asking if you're ever going to come in, and when you look back to the diner's entrance he's standing there, waving with a grin. You wave back and nod, finally grabbing your bag and exiting the car. Conscious of his eyes on you, every step feels awkward as you walk towards where Bucky is holding the door open for you.

You duck in, the scent of frying food reminding you of many weekends when you'd spread out in a window booth and stay until closing. He leads you over to one such table and sits on the far side, smile a little more forced now when you slide in opposite him. You stare at the menu, not reading it, just needing to look somewhere else than over at Bucky as the tension rises.

Before either of you can speak, a waitress bounces up to you, the same one who spilled orange juice all over Bucky on her first day and hasn't stopped apologising since. She looks more confident now, more sure of her role.

“Mr James and Y/N! So good to see you again.”

You smile at her, surprised to be remembered after nearly a year.

“Your usual?” She asks.

“Our usual? Do you still know what that is?”

“Of course!” She rattles of the list. “And coffee for the road. Right?”

“Right.” You're impressed at her memory. “Is that okay with you Bucky?”

He agrees and she leaves with a swish of her ponytail.

Without the distraction of ordering, the atmosphere is strained once more. Sitting in a painful silence, so far away from how you used to be together, it's feels more like the beginning of a friendship than one that's half a decade old. You'd become friends so quickly you'd slipped past this awkwardness, so it's like moving backwards along a path you never went down in the first place.

He takes the plunge first. “Thank you for coming, I wasn't sure you would. And then you did but looked so conflicted I was sure you'd drive away again.”

“I did think about it, but I wouldn't have. I miss you, despite how badly you hurt me.” He flinches at your honesty. “It's not that I don't forgive you, it's just a lot to take in.”

“I know.” He sits up straighter. “And I know I've said sorry but I wanna say it again, Y/N. You'd be completely within your right to not speak to me ever again.”

Drinks are placed at the end of the table but you hardly notice, too engrossed with each other.

“We've all made mistakes, Bucky. You've explained yourself, and I'd be a much worse person if I couldn't get past that.”

“You're too good Y/N. This is a lot more than I deserve.”

“Don't say that.”

“It's true. I don't know who that person was who said those things to you, it wasn't who I ever wanted to be, that's for sure.”

“The dark side of Hollywood got to you, that's all.”

He raises eyebrows, considering your suggestion. “I guess you're right. I wasn't prepared for it to be the way it was, and I let it become between us. I'll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you.”

You share a soft smile, unsure if you should thank him or make him swear on something precious that he'll keep his word.

The waitress is back over with the food, and Bucky leans back into his seat at she places it in front of you both. The small talk during the meal, mumbled around mouthfuls of fruit, is strained, but you're slowly becoming more relaxed around each other, helped by the normality of the location. When you've finished eating, you twist in your seat until your leg is crossed comfortably underneath you, watching Bucky fumble in his bag until he produces an envelope.

“Can I give you this?” He holds it out, placing it against your crossed arms when you don't move to retrieve it.

It feels heavy. “What is it?”

“Tickets to the première next week, backstage access. It would mean the world if you came.”

“I'll have to see.”

“Of course.”

He bites his lip as he pushes the remaining syrup around his plate. “I know I have to go but I feel sick every time I think about the amount of people who'll be there.”

“You can play a character in front of cameras for an audience of possibly millions, but a couple hundred people alongside a red carpet is too much?”

“It's different,” He insists. “I'm just myself in public. What if I'm not enough?”

You cease your teasing, reaching out to take his hand. “You're more than enough, Bucky.” His terrified look breaks your heart. “Look, let me see if I can get there.”

Opening the envelope and pulling out one of the tickets, you search the print for a date and time.

Bucky helps you out. “It's next weekend, the Sunday of the bank holiday. I thought if you wanted to come and it's late at least you won't have to get up for work the next day.”

“Got it all figured out, haven't you?” You chuckle.

“I just don't want it to be an inconvenience. Do you, er, do you have someone to bring?”

You squint at him confused.

“As a date?” He clarifies.

“Oh!” You look away as your cheeks heat up. “No, nothings changed on that front.”

Bucky's thumb strokes yours comfortingly. “Okay. If you don't have a date then maybe Dayton could have the other ticket?”

“You really have thought this all through, huh?” You smile drops as you realise what he's said. “Wait. Do you only have the two tickets to give away.” He nods and you frown. “And you were going to let me have both? Me and some possible... boyfriend?”

“Yes?” His voice cracks under your scrutiny.

“Why not give Dayton the chance first?”

“I need you to be there more than anyone else.”

There's a pause in which you look towards your joined hands to avoid his intense stare. Your heart is thumping against your rib cage as you attempt to work out the meaning of his words, unsure if you're over thinking everything.

The air crackles with tension again, and he changes the subject quickly. “Did you see I brought your shopping back?”

It takes you a second to figure out what he's on about. “Oh, yeah. Thank you. I didn't know that was you.”

He hums. “I made the taxi circle back, after checking you got home too. You stayed with Peggy that night?”

“I didn't really have a choice, you remember how she is.”

His laughter dies quickly, thoughts of that night still plaguing his thoughts. “Did I hurt you when I pushed you?”

You shake your head. “Just my pride.”

“I can't believe I was that awful to you. The one person who I-” Breaking off, he takes a shaky breath. “The only person who believed in me all those years when I got nowhere.”

“It wasn't just me who believed in you, Bucky.”

“Some days it felt like it.”

“But look at you now. Proved them all wrong.”

He squeezes your hands. “I did, didn't I? Just got to get through the interviews and premières now.”

“And you will.” You link your fingers together properly, gazes locking as you promise him. “I'm going to make sure you do.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's first première!  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so late, again! Sorry, again! Life is just so busy, all the time...

 

The train rattles it's way down to London, and you stare out at the passing trees, ignoring Dayton. You can feel his eyes on you, and you know he wants to talk about the events that lead to you calling him in a panic a couple of days ago, just after you'd realised you didn't have a clue what to wear to a première.

When you'd accepted Bucky's invitation you hadn't even thought about how everyone else there would be a celebrity of some sort, and that they would dress accordingly. Thank goodness Dayton is still part of that world and was able to help you out at such short notice, clearly thrilled that you were planning on attending, and more than happy to take the second ticket.

He nudges your arm to get your attention. “You okay?”

You glance his way, hum, and turn back to the window. He sighs from beside you, then moves to sit in the seat opposite, leaning forward to catch your eye.

“Y/N.”

“Dayton.”

“Look, you don't need to tell me what was said. Just, are you two okay now?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” He sits back again. “I'm not here to make excuses for him. At all. What he did was awful and it says a lot about you that you've managed to forgive him. He may be my brother but I'm not blind to his faults, it's just, I also know how cut up he was after it all. You mean everything to him, and I'm positive he won't do anything to hurt you again now he's got you back.”

“He said it wasn't worth losing me,” You say quietly. “And I couldn't lose him either. I wasn't myself when we weren't talking.”

“I know. And, just so we're clear, if for some reason he ever does do anything like this again, I won't hold back because he's my brother.”

You snicker at the idea. “Poor Bucky, no family loyalty.

“I mean it Y/N. You're like another sibling to me. It tore me apart when you two weren't getting along.”

Your smile drops at the thought of upsetting him. “Sorry.”

“Don't. Don't apologise when it wasn't your fault. Just swear that no matter what you'll come to me if you need help.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Dayton finishes his speech by moving back to your side and producing a bag of chocolate buttons out of his coat pocket, offering you a handful as you readjust yourself, conscious of not crumpling your outfit before you even get to the première. Watching as the landscape becomes more built up the closer to the city you travel, you mull over how fast things can change.

Only a month ago you couldn't imagine yourself ever wanting to see Bucky again, let alone attend his début at a red carpeted event, and now you can't imagine yourself being anywhere else.

 

*****

 

You can only just see Bucky through the mass of people in the cinemas lobby. A mix of TV stars and their entourage make getting to him impossible, so you and Dayton stay on the sidelines, looking on with matching proud grins.

Bucky's stylist flutters around in front of him, adjusting his bow-tie as he appears to zone out, moving this way and that as directed in a daze.

“He looks a bit scared doesn't he? I've always avoided this side of fame, I don't like interviews much.”

“Really? What about that short film you made about your diet? And your...” You turn to him as you try to remember. “Your OS system?”

He chokes in surprise. “You've seen that?”

“Everyone has! When I first met you I was a bit worried because of it.” You say, amused by how flustered Dayton's become. “It was such a relief when I found out you were not as pretentious as that video suggested.”

“It was meant as a joke!”

“I don't think many people saw it that way.”

“No, I know that now. Perhaps that's why I crashed my car, maybe I did it on purpose so people would forget about that video when I was dying.”

You gasp, lightly smacking his arm. “Don't say that!”

Before you can launch into a lecture about inappropriate jokes, he's shouting his brothers name over your shoulder, spinning you in his direction, and disappearing off to leave you alone. Watching as Bucky weaves his way through the crowds to get to you, your heart aches with want.

He looks so good. Between his light blue suit, fluffy hair, and the way the colour is coming back into his cheeks at the sight of you, if you weren't already head over heels for him this image would be your downfall.

“Hello,” He breathes, stopping in front of you.

“Hi.”

“I was frightened you weren't coming.”

“I said I would, didn't I?”

“Yes, but-”

“And I always keep my word, you know that.”

“I do. Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Dunno. Sick? This is so weird, I have no idea what I'm doing.”

“You'll be okay Bucky. And you look the part. Very pretty.”

He flushes at the praise. “Thank you. So do you.”

“Not playing it safe with a black suit, I see.”

“No, I thought...” He runs a hand down the lapel self-consciously. “Does it look okay?”

“Yes Bucky. You look great.”

“Thank you. And thank you for being here.

“Wouldn't have missed it.”

Dayton takes that as his opening to greet Bucky too, wishing him luck as he's called away for a last minute briefing. Watching him banter with Sam Wilson so easily reminds you of Isabella's words. She was right about him having a new best friend, but you're happy for him, not jealous or upset, and it's obvious the respect and admiration is mutual. A friendship like that is exactly what Bucky needs to get through this.

 

*****

 

Near the end of the evening, Dayton is dragged onto the red carpet for photo's with Bucky after a member of the paparazzi recognises him and causes a fuss until he agrees to join his brother. You use the moment to escape back into the venue, the flash bulbs and screaming fans a little too much for you to handle at that moment, and your wandering through the foyer leads you to a table full of merchandise for the new show.

Earlier in the day a few lucky fans had been invited to a meet and greet with the stars of the show, and as well as photo's with Bucky and Sam, they'd also taken away a goody bag full of branded products. A spare sack sits in the corner, and you can't resist taking a peak.

Inside, there's the pretty standard items you'd expect, pin badges and pencil cases, however the box at the bottom of the bag is what you're drawn to. Picking it out, you flip it over so you can see it's contents.

A miniature replica of Bucky, or his character at least, rests behind the clear film, complete with the metal arm that is evidently a big part of the story. It even looks like Bucky, the face, though small, recognisably his, and you well up as you think about what this must mean to him.

This is more than he could have ever dreamt of

You've just managed to wrestle the model out from the cable ties when a voice from behind you makes you jump.

“You must be Y/N.”

Startled, you hastily put the figurine back down on the table. Wincing when it rolls over the edge and falls to the floor with a thud, you reach down to retrieve it as you splutter. “Sorry! I wasn't going to take it! I was just looking.”

Straightening up, you turn to face the person who's caught you sneaking around, double taking as you meet Sam Wilson's eye.

“I'm sure you can have it if you want. And if anyone says anything, tell them I let you.” Holding his hand out, he introduces himself. “I'm Sam.”

“Yeah, I know,” You say, accepting his hand as you mentally scold yourself for being so starstruck. “I mean-”

“It's okay,” He interrupts with a smile. “You are Y/N, aren't you?” You nod. “Thought so. I've heard lots about you.”

“All good, I hope,” You try to joke, shoving your shaking hands behind your back

“Oh, absolutely.”

You don't know how to reply, palms sweating as you grip the toy.

“Sorry,” He cringes. “That sounded a little creepy, huh? I just mean Bucky speaks about you all the time.”

“Does he?” You squeak.

Sam laughs kindly. “You're precisely how he described. I can see why he's so-”

“Stop annoying Y/N, Wilson.”

Bucky pops up by your side, so close you can feel the heat from his body even through both of your outfits.

Sam's eyes flick between the two of you. “Okay, yeah, I can definitely see what this is. I guess I'll be seeing you around Y/N.” He leaves, grinning mischievously.

“What was that about?” You ask, confused.

“Nothing. Ready to go?”

You yawn, slipping the figurine in your pocket discreetly. “So ready.”

“I'm sorry I can't offer you a bed for the night. It seems rude to make you travel so far so late.”

“It's fine. Sophia's insisting I go back to theirs tonight so it'll take five minutes to get there once we're off the train.”

“Please send her my love. I feel like I haven't seen her for ages, some brother-in-law I am.”

“She understands.”

“I am trying to be better.” He links his arm with yours as you walk back out towards the underground. “It's a balancing act and it's not easy, but I am trying.”

 

*****

 

Bucky and the rest of the cast are making their way up up to Manchester for a talk show tomorrow morning, so you all travel together back to the mainline station. You stick close to Dayton, overwhelmed by the presence of so many famous faces, not wanting to do anything to embarrass yourself, or Bucky by association.

The others part ways quickly, their train due in later over on the other side of the railway concourse, and when they're gone you can relax again. Dayton finds your shyness around Bucky's cast mates entertaining, giggling quietly to himself at the way you collapse onto a bench in relief.

“It's not funny! I'm not used to this. Before tonight I'd met one celebrity, you, so excuse me for finding it a bit much.”

“Hey! You've met me too, I count.” Bucky protests from your side.

He's hung back to see you off, not sure of the next time he'll be free to meet up so he's making the most of the last minutes now.

“Okay, two. And then there was at least one hundred people of varying degrees of fame on that red carpet. I wasn't ready.”

“Neither was I.” Bucky rubs at his eye, looking as tired as you feel.

“You did really well though. And you'll be just as good tomorrow.”

“We'll see.”

“No, you'll be great.”

It's cold on the platform. Shuddering, you realise how wrong you were when you thought that you could get away without a jacket, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

“Cold?” Bucky asks.

“A little.”

In an instant, both he and Dayton are holding out their coats. You would try to object, however you've known them long enough to know they won't take no for an answer.

Bucky pouts when you allow Dayton to slip his over your shoulders.

“I see how it is.”

You laugh at his disgruntled tone. “It would take forever for me to get yours back to you.”

“I could buy a new one.”

“I'm sure you could, money bags.”

He splutters at you as, laughing, you step out of his reach when he tries to tickle you in retaliation

Then the train is pulling in, and you hesitate as Dayton and Bucky hug, unsure if you should embrace him too. He makes that decision for you, wrapping his arms around you for the first time this year, and you struggle with your emotions, not wanting to let go as the doors open with a beep behind you. Dayton tugs gently on the back of his coat you're wearing to get you moving. Boarding the train whilst fighting off tears, you find a seat by the window and wave at Bucky through it until he's out of sight.

With nothing but your own reflection to look at now the sun has long since set and the countryside outside the city is shrouded in darkness, you find your eyes dropping, snuggling up in the warmth of Dayton's coat. Using the hood as a makeshift pillow, you would have fallen asleep had your companion not started talking.

“Where are you and Bucky going to go from here?”

You keep your eyes closed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there ever going to be a conversation about you two? Or is it going to continue like it always has, ignoring the obvious?”

You whine as you meet his gaze, not liking where this is going.

Dayton continues regardless. “You know I've never pressured either of you, so I'll only say this once. You two would be so good together. Basically perfect, like you were made for each other. Sophia agrees, all we want is for you both to be happy, and we think you would be if only you would admit how you feel to each other. It has to be on your terms though, at your pace, so I'm not going to push too much. I just hope you say something soon.”

You shrink further into his coat, sniffing as your eyes fill up. “It's safe not saying anything.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“What if he doesn't feel the same?”

“Of course he does, you don't have to be afraid of that.” Bringing you in to lean against his side, he strokes your arm comfortingly. “I know how you must be feeling, you've just got to be brave. It'll be worth it, I promise.”

 

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This is the video they were talking about!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRPEjw6S3_s) I've made Dayton's character nothing like he is in Logan Lucky though, so for the purpose of this story, don't take it seriously! He would have meant it as a joke/parody of other ridiculous athletes and their silly diets.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classic only one bed dilemma 'cos I'm a sucker for a cliché...  
> 

After your star-studded weekend, the normality of school is refreshing. You're not sure how you would cope with fame yourself, even one evening surrounded by such wealth and excess had almost been too much for you. It's a completely different world from the one you know, and as Bucky has demonstrated, it is incredibly easy to get caught up in the wrong side of Hollywood. Your greatest wish for him now is that his new team keep him safe as far as they can.

Peggy finds you early on the first morning back, keen to get all the gossip.

“So how was it? Your date with James?”

You roll your eyes. “It wasn't a date. And it was good. Fun.”

“Just 'fun'?”

“Yes, Peggy.”

“So, he didn't invite you back to his hotel room, and, you know?”

“No, Peggy.”

“That's disappointing.”

You scoff at her. “You're ridiculous. And anyway, there was no hotel room because he was travelling for more promo up north.”

“Oh of course, the breakfast show. Did you watch it?”

You had, heart in your mouth as Bucky sat rigid in front of the cameras. As the interview progressed he had relaxed into his chair, joking along with Sam and his other cast mates, and by the time they wrapped it looked like he was actually enjoying himself.

You nod. “He did well, didn't he?”

“Just make sure he doesn't hurt you again Y/N.”

“What? You were the one who was pushing me to make up with him.”

“Yeah, but, still. I'm not scared of him.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you send her away as you try to focus on your marking. You're glad she's on your side if you ever need her, and you hope you won't where Bucky is concerned, for his sake as well as yours. Not many have survived the wrath of Peggy.

 

*****

 

Bucky next calls you ten minutes after the last bell rings that Friday afternoon.

“Did you get my email?”

“Err, I don't know?”

“Check it now, I've just sent it.”

Clicking away at your computer as he waits impatiently on the other end of the line, you find the message and open it, scrunching your face up as you hover over the many links.

“What is this?”

“Your tickets.”

“My ticket-” You stop as you recognise the airlines logo in the corner of the page, and when you download the attachment and the itinerary it contains, you understand what he's done.

“Bucky, I can't-”

“Yes you can Y/N.

“This is far too much.”

“No it's not. It's what we always said I'd do if I ever made it.”

“But we were only joking!”

“I wasn't.”

Sighing, you read through the travel plan as Bucky chats away in the background about all the ideas he's had about what you can do together when you're there.

“And Dayton and Sophia are coming too! And little Benjamin. Adding you on didn't cost much more.”

“That's not how it works, Bucky.”

“Please Y/N.” The excitement drops from his voice. “I want to show you where I grew up, let my parents _finally_ meet you, and just spend some time with my best friend. Proper time, not a few stolen hours when I'm in the country.”

You're silent as you think over his request, and he takes it as agreement.

“So do you accept?”

“It's very kind of you, so yes. But next time it's on me.”

“All right.” He laughs. “This will be amazing, just wait. No adverse weather conditions or manipulative managers are going to get in our way this time.”

 

*****

 

The last weeks of the school year fly by as usual, and the first morning of the summer holiday is spent hurriedly throwing clothes and shoes into a suitcase, all too aware of the ticking clock counting down to the taxi's arrival. It'll be the first leg of a very long journey, down to the railway station where further along the line you'll meet Dayton, Sophia and Benjamin, and then onto the airport express.

Your door bell rings as you're zipping up the bag, and you drag it down the stairs as you run through your list of essentials one last time. Your passport, tickets and phone are all definitely there, so you hand your case to the driver and decide that if you haven't got anything else now then you'll just have to go without it.

The taxi is a lot, lot, nicer than the ones you're used to. Bucky had booked it along with everything else, clearly not sparing any expense despite you insisting economy would be more than enough. You still don't know how you feel about him paying. It's one thing you buying a plane ticket for him a year ago, when there was the understanding that it'd be repaid, but this was a 'gift', as Bucky said. You're torn between thinking of it as a perk of his new life, and feeling like you're using him for his money.

Hauling your suitcase on to the train as Saturday shoppers bustle around you, you find the first free seat and drop into it, texting Dayton the letter of the carriage you're in. The rest of the journey is a bit of a whirlwind, all the connections on time but it is still a close call with a toddler in tow. Once you are on the aeroplane however, it all calms down. Benjamin is fascinated by the clouds out of the window, and you volunteer to sit next to him whilst his parents get some much needed rest. You feel especially bad for Sophia, travelling at nearly six months pregnant, but you know how important it is for her to go home before the new baby arrives, her own parents living just a few hours north in Massachusetts.

Your flight is one of the last to land that evening so passport control is virtually empty, and Dayton's families cases are the first ones unloaded to be collected. Standing there as the last few bags come up and the carousel stops, you stare at it as the realisation of what that means causes your shoulders to slump.

Shrugging in defeat when Dayton questions the wait, you scuff your trainers against the floor, eyes burning with the combination of lack of sleep and stress of lost luggage.

“I've let Bucky know we're here so- oh, there he is.”

Turning around, you watch as Bucky flashes a grin at the security, who let him through the doors and into the baggage claim hall, jogging over to welcome the others first. Then he's in front of you and picking you up in a hug, his infectious smile making you forget your exhaustion for a moment.

“You made it!”

“My case didn't.”

He puts you back down, pulling away to frown at you. “What do you mean?”

“That's the last of the bags. Mine isn't here.”

“Okay.” He lets you out of his arms, already searching through his phone for the relevant number. “Don't worry, I'll sort it out.”

A dozen calls later, he finds your bag. Currently it's enjoying the sunshine of southern Italy, having been mislabelled and sent completely the wrong direction at first. Bucky ensures you it'll be on the next flight back to London, and then on to America as soon possible, no later than the end of the week.

You feel guilty for causing such a nuisance. “I'm so sorry Bucky. I'm such a pain.”

He shakes his head. “No you're not. It's not your fault. Come on, you can borrow something for tonight and I'll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

You all slowly make your way to the taxi rank, the rows of yellow cabs blurring into one as the bags are loaded into the boot and you climb in behind Bucky, so tired you ache. Luckily the roads are quieter at this time of night and the trip is short, and as he pays the driver you stare up at the townhouse in awe, feeling like you've already been here from all the stories you've heard.

The front door is unlocked, the main luggage dumped by the front door to be dealt with tomorrow, and you unlace your shoes as you smile at the photos of the twins hanging on the wall. Further along the hall you can see Sophia's also in the pictures with them, and in the most recent one at the end you come face to face with yourself. It's only you and Bucky in the frame, neither of you are looking at the camera, laughing at something you can't remember. Dayton must have been the photographer, but how it ended up here you don't know. It's something you'll ask about in the morning, you decide as you follow everyone else through the house.

Being as it is his childhood home, Dayton knows where to go, leading his wife and son down the corridor and into a side room, leaving you and Bucky alone in the hallway.

He turns to you awkwardly. “Looks like you'll be sharing with me.”

“That's fine.”

“Err, don't know if you'll still be saying that when I tell you there's only one bed.”

“Oh,” You say, eyes widening at the thought.

“Sorry, Y/N. I didn't even think. It's okay though! There's a hotel on the corner, I'm sure they'll have rooms-”

“It's fine Bucky. Really.”

You stop him from reaching for his phone by catching his hand in yours, then, opening the door to what you're guessing is his room, you pull him in after you and close it behind him. It's cosy, the night light already on and casting a warm glow across the bed. You try not to look too relieved as you see that it's not a tiny single but a large double or even king, with more than enough room for the both of you.

“Do you want me to take the floor?”

“No, Bucky. Don't be silly,” You whisper, aware of the late hour. “It's been a long day. I've been awake for nearly twenty four hours, I've lost my bag, and all I want right now is to sleep until my limbs stop hurting.”

He smiles softly in sympathy. “I'll leave a t-shirt for you to wear. Do you think you'll need anything else?”

“No. This is great, thank you.”

“There's some of that moisturiser you use in the bathroom. The one you made me buy too. I know how you like to use it after you've washed your face at night.”

Nodding gratefully, you excuse yourself to his en suite. You'd packed a clean set of underwear in your carry-on just in case something like this happened, and after a brief shower you dress yourself in his top, feeling a little more human.

Stealing a new toothbrush out of the cupboard and giving your teeth a thorough clean with the floss you also find there, you cleanse and moisturise, then shuffle back into his room.

Turning down the bed as Bucky uses the bathroom himself, you slide under the covers on the left side. When he lies on the other side of the bed, careful to leave space between you, you smile sleepily across at him.

“I'm so happy to finally be here.”

“Yeah.” He agrees. “You haven't met my parents yet.”

“It can wait 'til morning.”

“They're going to love you.”

“You think?”

“I know. Just like I-everyone does.”

You can't keep your eyes open any longer. “That's kind.”

“It's true. You'll see.”

“Thank you for bringing me,” You murmur as you make your self comfortable, tugging the duvet up to your chin. “I think this is going to be a trip to remember.”

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city that never sleeps with the man that really needs to...  
> 

 

Waking up the next day, the first thing you're aware of is how warm you are. Cracking one eye open, it takes you a second to remember where you are, the bedroom looking different in the morning light. The rays shining through the thin curtains and the heavy quilt are a little too much now you're awake.

Attempting to move the duvet away, it comes as quite the shock when it resists, mumbling something from behind you, the weight across your centre tightening and pulling you back into the middle of the bed. Twisting your head to the side, you're met with a head full of messy brunette hair, and your body freezes at the realisation that Bucky has cuddled up to you in his sleep. Granted, just one arm over the covers, but it's still much more intimate than you've been with him before and you don't want him to know you're awake in case it becomes awkward. His breathing is slow and even against your shoulder, still dead to the world, and you relax back into his hold knowing how deeply he sleeps. He regularly slept through his alarm when you worked together, and many a time you had had to use the spare key to enter his flat and chivvy him out of bed.

Staring up at the ceiling, you allow yourself to enjoy his embrace. You feel well rested, the aches from yesterday gone and with the blankets folded down away from you, you're content in your comfortably hazy state.

At least you are until your tummy rumbles.

Bucky shuffles beside you, rolling onto his back and releasing you from his grip, allowing you to slip out of bed and tip toe out to the hall. Closing the door quietly as you leave him be, you take a moment to admire the sight, how peaceful he looks sleeping in his own bed for once. The first half of filming for season two has just wrapped, and it's no secret that the hours are just as brutal as they were for the first, the actors pushed to their limit in the pursuit of keeping to budget.

Bucky needs all the sleep he can get.

Alone in the unfamiliar house, you slowly walk down the corridor, not wanting to open the wrong door and invade someone’s privacy. Especially not on your first day here. Following the stairs down to the next floor, you find the kitchen, an airy open plan space with the living room off to the right.

A box of your favourite cereal sits on the counter near the fridge, the sticky note with your name written in Bucky's handwriting stuck on the side bringing a smile to your face.

“How did you sleep?”

Whipping around as the voice startles you, you find Sophia stood at the table with her plate of toast and orange juice.

“Don't skulk around like that!”

“I'm not skulking, looks like you've got something to hide. Was the bed comfy enough?”

Turning back to make your breakfast, you ignore her and her smirk.

“Fine. Don't tell me. But just so you know, the bathroom is in-between Bucky's room and Day's so we wouldn't be able to hear anything if you wanted-”

“Sophia! Stop, please. And anyway,” You point at the clock. “Why are you up so early?”

“I'm not that tired actually, thanks to you keeping Benjamin entertained on the plane. What about you?”

“Hungry.”

“I'll let you get back to your food then.”

The breakfast bar seats are surprisingly comfortable, and you happily sit in the kitchen checking your phone as you eat and wait for Bucky to finally make it out of bed.

“Y/N.” His voice is scratchy when he walks in. “There you are.”

“Morning.” You push a bowl towards him as he takes a seat opposite you. “I poured you some cornflakes.”

“You should stay over more often,” He grins as he adds milk and takes a spoonful.

“And you should lend me your tops more often. This is the softest thing I've ever worn.”

Gaze skimming up your legs to where his t-shirt falls across your top half, he pauses halfway through a mouthful. Something in the air changes as he puts down his cutlery, breakfast forgotten as he stands up again.

You can't look away as he approaches. “Bucky?”

He shakes his head. “I could get used to this. You, here with me. Waking up together.”

“Bucky.”

“Well, if you stayed in bed long enough, that is,” He goes on, coming to a stop before you as you slide off your seat.

“And I could really get used to seeing you in my clothes.” His fingers skim the hem, centimetres away from your thighs. “You're so pretty in this.”

“I'm not,” You protest weakly.

He chuckles. “Still so shy with compliments. I guess I'll just have to keep repeating them until you believe me.”

Winding his arm around your waist, he brings you between his legs and you look down, chest tight.

He tilts his head to catch your eye again, “Y/N, I want to-”

The door opens behind you and you step away from Bucky instinctively, not missing the way his hands reach out for you.

Dayton's eyes narrow as he assesses the situation he's walked in on. “Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Bucky spits at the same time, glaring at his brother as you wish you could become invisible.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another as Dayton grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it up with water, your sides tingle with the ghost of Bucky's touch.

“Well, better get this to Sophia.”

Dayton winks at you as he leaves, making you even more flustered.

When he's gone Bucky's attention is back on you but the moment has past, and before the tension becomes to much you change the subject.

“Erm, if you have nothing else important to do, could you come shopping with me? Or not. It's fine if you're busy, I can go alone.”

“Of course I'll come, I said I would. And we can't have you getting lost on your first day can we?” You nod as you laugh at the thought. “I'll go get dressed.”

 

*****

 

Getting ready doesn't take very long as you can only put yesterdays outfit back on. Standing next to Bucky by the front door as he fixes his hat, you stare at your reflection in the mirror and wish you'd worn something more stylish for the flight over. Next to him in his bespoke outfit you feel plain and uninteresting.

You feel even more under-dressed when you hear a set of footsteps coming down from the second floor, and then there in front of you is the woman you've heard so much about. Seeming like she's just stepped out of a fashion magazine, her immaculate hair and perfectly fitting dress-suit has you shrinking away, intimidated despite her friendly demeanour.

“Aren't you going to introduce me, Bucky?”

“Oh, yeah, 'course. Mum, this is my-err, my, my Y/N. Y/N.”

You flush, smiling at her through your embarrassment. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Barnes.”

She doesn't notice how tense you've become, kissing one cheek then the other. “So lovely to finally meet you Y/N. Oh! You're even more beautiful in real life! And it's Winnifred.”

Bucky giggles as you look to him helplessly.

“George! Come meet Y/N.”

Mr Barnes trails in, just as welcoming as his wife. The resemblance to his sons is remarkable even with the softness of laughter lines added to his face over the years.

He clasps your hand in both of his. “Glad you finally found some time to visit. Bucky's been excited for your arrival all week. Hasn't stopped going on about it.”

“Dad,” Bucky groans as you rise your eyebrows over at him, amused.

“As we all have, obviously.” His dad tries to save himself.

“Right, well we'll have to leave you kids alone now, work calls,” Winnifred apologies as her phone buzzes and she grabs her bag.

“Kids?” Bucky mutters with a roll of his eyes.

“You'll always be my baby, darling,” She says, flicking the brim of his hat so it falls off and she can ruffle his hair.

Smoothing it back down as he blushes, he opens the door. “All right, definitely time for you to leave!”

“See you two later. Oh, we should all have lunch! Not today though.” She thinks as George coaxes her out the house. “I'll text you our schedule and we'll make it work.”

Bucky's dad waves back at the two of you. “See you both soon.”

The door swings shut behind them and Bucky turns to you, grinning bashfully.

“Sorry they're so full on.”

“They're very sweet.”

“Suppose they are. I owe them a lot.” He collects his hat from the floor and resits it upon his head. “Ready to hit the shops?”

 

*****

 

Shopping is exhausting. Not only is New York enormous, with every store possible spread across miles of avenues and boulevards, but you've never shopped from American brands before, so you have no idea which one to start with. Bucky isn't much help, you have to pull him away from the designer shops more than once during the day. He says it's not a problem, he can pay, but that's the last thing you want since he paid for you to come over. You don't let him get lunch either, insisting on trying out a little toasted sandwich van parked near one of the entrance gates for Central Park.

Finding a bench near a fountain, you sit close together and tear into the paper bag full of melted cheese and hot vegetables between warm bread.

Once the food is finished, you watch the other tourists and native New Yorkers for a while. After so many years of daydreaming about visiting, it's surreal to actually be here, the three week break Bucky's managed to bag for himself stretches before you like the summers holidays did when you where a child. Compared to the snatched moments you've shared in the last year, it feels endless.

This is the happiest you've been for months. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“Thank you for forgiving me so I could.”

You watch the water cascade down the statues together for a few more minutes, arms brushing, until you can no longer take it.

“Bucky?” He hums. You take a deep breath, acting braver than you feel. “Dayton thinks we should talk. Do you think he's right?”

“I think he's an interfering piece of-”

“No you don't. And you're not answering the question.”

Bucky sighs, repositioning himself on the bench so he can look at you directly, his face a mix of emotions. “I wanted to talk this morning, before Dayton barged in like the-.”

You interrupt. “How about we talk now instead?”

“All right.” Standing up, he holds out his hand for you to take, squeezing it gently when you let him help you up. “Come on, I know the perfect place to go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I left it there... ;)  
> As always, thank you for reading! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a short update 'cos they're finally, finally, maybe, possibly going to kiss...

 

Bucky leads the way, bags of new clothes in one hand and your hand in his other, everything else fades away as you try to work out what you want to say. After five years of not saying anything, of bottling up your feelings, convinced they'd never be returned, now that it looks like it might work out you want it to be perfect.

Or as perfect as it can be.

He comes to a halt halfway across one of the long bridges, resting the shopping bags on the ground as he faces you, hands twisting together nervously.

“Is this okay?”

You nod, waiting for him to say something, at a loss of where to start yourself. He seems just as lost, readjusting his hat as you peer across the water at the last boats gliding home for the night.

You hadn't noticed how late it'd got, most of the heat gone from the sun now as it sinks behind the tallest trees.

A flock of birds pass overhead and you both smile at the picturesque image.

“Central Park this time of day is lovely, isn't it?” Bucky says from beside you, voice wavering. “I've always thought it has a special sort of magic.”

Leaning against the rail, you turn to watch him step towards you as he talks. “It's the sort of place you promise your best friend you'll always be there for them. That you won't let anything get in the way of that promise or make them doubt how much you care for them, not ever again.”

One of his hands finds your waist, pulling you into him like this morning in the kitchen.

“And the sort of place you tell your best friend you've been in love with them for as long as you can remember.”

Your breath catches as his other hand cups your cheek. You need to return the sentiment, to acknowledge it at least, but your mouth has gone dry and your mind blank.

Bucky continues as you struggle for words. “I really am in love. I can't ignore how I feel any more, and seeing you today in my home, in my clothes, it's all I've ever wanted, what I want forever. I love you Y/N.”

Grinning through the tears building at his confession, you finally manage to choke out one of your own. “I love you too, Bucky.”

His smile matches yours.

“In that case then, I'm the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in, gaze dropping to your lips. “This is also the sort of place I imagined we'd kiss for the first time.”

“Oh?”

“Hmm. Can I?” He murmurs.

You don't answer with words, instead you close the distance between the two of you and press your mouth to his for the first time. He reacts immediately, fingers threading into your hair as he guides you gently, soft lips moving with yours in a way that leaves you dizzy.

This moment is one you never thought would happen outside of fantasy, and now that it is, you're finding it hard to believe it's real. You break the kiss, resting your forehead against his as you try to catch your breath, gripping his shirts collar in both hands in an attempt to ground yourself.

“All right?” He asks.

“This feels like a dream,” You laugh. “I don't want to wake up.”

“I could pinch you so you know it's not?” Bucky suggests with a smirk.

Giggling, you go to dart away, only to be caught around the middle again and shown just how real this actually is.

This time you allow yourself to relax in his arms, letting his tongue get a taste of you when he asks for entrance, meeting your own and sending tingles all through your body. You sigh happily into the kiss, enjoying how close he's holding you until much to your disappointment, he lets you up for air again so he too can breathe.

“Not a dream?”

“Definitely not a dream. You don't know how long I've wanted this.”

Bucky huffs. “So what your saying is I could have done something about it ages ago.” He presses his mouth to yours, sucking softly on your lower lip when he pulls away. “That I could have been kissing you for years now.”

“Maybe. I think it's better like this, now we know each other inside-out.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Bucky then hoists you up and spins you around, walking you backwardsuntil he's putting you down against the trunk of a nearby tree. He picks a petal out of your hair, and you expect him to kiss you again, but then he steps away and whips out his phone to take a photo.

“Sam asked me why you weren't my background seeing as I talk about you like I'm already your boyfriend. This should shut him up.” He shows you his screen and your pleasantly surprised the picture looks nice. “Come on now, we've got to get you home so you can get ready.”

You squint in question.

“For our date. I'm going to do this right, despite how we finally got here, so tonight I'm taking you out.”

“Ooh, where?”

He beams at you, and you feel you may burst from joy. “Wherever you want.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first date with Bucky!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the next chapter, which should be up next weekend, will be the last! And then an epilogue and it'll be over...  
> If you've stuck with it, thank you so much!!

 

The rest of the family are out when you get back to the house, meaning you can use the master bathroom uninterrupted to get changed for your date. It still hasn't sunk in that that's what it'll be. An actual, real, not-in-the-friendly-sense-of-the-word, date. A proper date, with Bucky. You can hear him in his en suite getting ready, humming quietly to himself, and you can't wipe the grin off your face.

Spinning in front of the mirror to check your appearance, you sigh, deciding that this is as good as it's going to get. The familiar insecurities about not being enough creep back in but you are quick to shut them up. Bucky likes you for you, _loves_ you for you, and despite all the beautiful people he must have met and worked with in his new life, you're still the one he wants.

He's standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting when you've finished getting ready. Tapping away on his phone, he doesn’t notice you until you're halfway down, and the way he smiles up at you when he does is worth all the heartbreak and hurt of the past year.

“You look nice.”

“Just nice?” You tease.

“Gorgeous.” He sounds so sincere and you flush as he meets you at the bottom step, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Thank you. So do you.”

He offers you his arm. “Well? Shall we?”

 

*****

 

The low lighting and soft music of the restaurant Bucky's chosen is a contrast from any place you've visited together before, a sign of how your relationship has shifted. This is all you've ever dreamed of and more, and you ignore your nerves to let yourself enjoy the date.

At first you two talk about anything that crosses your mind, from travel plans to school gossip and the new baby niece or nephew he'll soon have, until you mention wanting to build a bigger run for the chickens.

Bucky frowns. “Wait a minute. Where are they while you're here?”

“Peggy said she'd check on them, fill up their water and clean their nest box. It takes less time now there's only three.”

“Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry about Dot. I should have said that before, Dayton did tell me.”

“I'm sorry too. I know she was your favourite.”

“Yeah, she was.” He smiles sadly. “I've missed them almost as much as I've missed you.”

“I'm sure they've missed you too.”

You grab your phone to show him the newest pictures you have off them, and the evening continues perfectly until his posture goes rigid on spotting something behind you, the look on his face causing you to tense up too.

“Don't look now, but my old manager is at the bar.”

Wide eyed, you reach out for Bucky's trembling hands. “Do you want to leave?”

“Yes. Please. Sorry to spoil everything.”

“Hey, no, nothings spoiled. We can go somewhere else for dessert.”

Ignoring standard etiquette and not bothering to flag down a waiter for the cheque, you make your way to the entrance podium as Bucky grabs your jacket from the cloakroom. When a server eventually manages to get a break and take your card, you refuse to let Bucky pay, not even for half the bill.

“You can get the ice cream.”

“Deal.”

Even all the way over the other side of the room you can hear Bucky's manager arguing with the bartender, not happy with the refusal of service on the grounds that he's plainly had more than enough to drink already. Any hope of you slipping out quietly is lost when, growing bored of fighting with the bar staff, he moves away to try his luck in the next restaurant and recognises Bucky by the door.

He staggers over to you both. “Barnes? Barnes! It is you! You fucking-”

He pauses when his gaze falls to you.

“And this must be the slut you were willing to risk your career for.” He looks you up and down with a sneer. “Don't see what all the fuss was about.”

Bucky sighs tiredly. “Get the fuck out of here, David.”

Going to leave again, Bucky is stopped in his tracks as a glass is thrown in his direction, shattering around his feet. You jump at the noise, gasping quietly as Bucky moves you so he's blocking you from view. Breathing heavily in fright, your hand twists into the back of his shirt, clinging on for dear life as you try to work out how to prevent any more violence.

Bucky clearly has the same wish as you. “Go home, David. You need to sleep this off. Haven't you got a court date in a couple of days? You'll want to be in better shape for then.”

David is swaying dangerously at this point, fists clenched. You are reassured minutely by the member of staff you can see in the background on the phone to what you hope are the emergency services.

“We're leaving. I suggest you do the same.”

“No! You and that brother of yours ruined everything! You can't just take that away from me and not-”

David tips too far forward finally, and as he's picking himself of the floor you force Bucky out of the restaurant and into the street. Stepping out of the way of a policewoman, you watch through the window as his old manager is pinned to the wall and handcuffed unceremoniously.

“If he was on bail, this isn't going to help his case,” You say, watching Bucky carefully.

“Good.”

He lets go of your hand and paces quickly along a side alley, running his hands through his hair. You follow hesitantly, not wanting to intrude on his personal space but also not wanting to leave him alone when he's so obviously distressed.

“Bucky?” You ask, worried. “What's wrong?”

He doesn't meet your eye. “Seeing him again brought it all back. Made me think, what if I hurt you again? Some other dick in Hollywood gets in my head and I push you away? I couldn't put you through that twice.”

You can't lie and say you haven't had the same thought. It's hard to trust again when you've been so badly hurt, but after everything that's happened in the last month or two, you're sure history won't repeat it's self in that respect.

“We'll get through anything, just as long as you're honest with me.”

“I will be, promise.”

“Thank you. But you needn't worry, I don't think Dayton would let you do that again.”

He nods shakily. “Day scared the hell out of me, not least just turning up in the middle of LA when I thought he was back at his home. And then to top if off he wasn't very nice to me.”

“I'll bet.”

“He was so angry I didn't answer his calls. Sam said I was an idiot too.”

“Can't say I disagree.”

“But he still helped me anyway. I wouldn't be here without him.” He collapses onto a fire escape hanging off the nearest building. “I wouldn't have got a second chance with you without him.”

“Remind me to thank him later then.” You rise up on to your tiptoes, leaning through the bars off the staircase to press a kiss to his cheek. “Do you still want ice cream?”

“I think I need something stronger.”

“Chocolate fudge cake it is then.”

He tips his head back in laughter at that and you think yeah, together the two of you will be just fine.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/)!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last one...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really late, and I'm super sorry, just life :( But we've finally reached the end! If anyone is still reading, thank you so much!! there might be an epilogue, we'll see...

Blinking awake early the next day, the warmth against your back is a welcome reassurance that yesterday wasn't a dream, however much it felt like it was. How can it be that only one full day has past since you arrived? So much has happened it feels like at least a week, surely your first kiss with Bucky wasn't only a couple of hours a go?

Pressing a finger to your lips, the memory of his touch causes a wide smile to spread across your face, which only grows when you turn onto your other side to watch him sleep. Safe in the knowledge that now you're 'official' if he wakes you won't have to pretend you haven't been staring, you study his steady breaths and the way his hair falls across his forehead.

He really is so pretty. These past days away from the set have done him good, a regular sleep pattern clearly makes all the difference, as does the lack of criminal managers making his life hell. His cheek is warm as you gently trace down to the smooth skin of his neck, resting your hand over his collar bone where you can feel his heartbeat. The regular pulse is soothing and the comfort of knowing he's right there with you lulls you back into a light slumber.

 

*****

 

When you next wake, the need to stretch your body wins over the desire to stay in bed with Bucky. With slow and careful movements, you peel away the duvet and sit up, replacing the covers once you've stood to keep the heat in and allow him to get the rest he deserves.

Sneaking out of his room just like yesterday morning, your plan to make breakfast in bed and surprise Bucky when he does eventually rise is delayed as the photographs in the hallway you briefly saw on your first night capture your attention.

Sophia's wedding dress was beautifully elegant, exactly as you would expect, and there's one particular picture that showcases it so well, the wispy veil catching the light from the sunset as she and Dayton walk along the shore of the lake, just down from the hotel where they were married. The next photo on also contains Bucky, taking his best man duties seriously. He looks more relaxed in the following shot, celebrating with the rest of the guests as the newly weds emerge from the venue into a shower of confetti.

“Biodegradable petals, of course.”

Winnifred Barnes seems to have materialised out of thin air. Trying to hide your shock at her appearing beside you without warning, you turn to face her, nodding politely with a small smile.

“Mrs Barnes. Good morning.”

“Good morning sweet Y/N. And again, call me Winnifred.”

“Okay,” You whisper, still not daring to address her by her first name. She doesn't push the issue, instead continuing to comment on the images of her youngest son's wedding.

“And the flowers for her bouquet and the tables came from our garden. Picked and arranged that morning.”

“It all looked beautiful.”

“It was.” Tapping her freshly manicured nails against the glass face of one frame, behind which rests an image of Bucky dancing with his new sister-in-law, she sighs. “I remember wishing that day that sometime soon he would be just as happy as Dayton. Little did I know that Day's tragic crash would lead his brother to the one to make him so.”

Opening your mouth to respond, your reply dies on your tongue as you meet her eye, her knowing gaze freezing you in place.

She's not finished. “Maybe we'll have another set of wedding pictures to put alongside these in the near future.”

You gulp. It was late when you got back last night, everyone long retired to bed, so you're sure the family can't know about the change in your relationship status with Bucky yet.

Her smirk tells you different.

“I...” Lost for words, you wish you were wearing something more sophisticated than your new pyjamas for this conversation. This is the first time you've properly talked to Bucky's mother and you can't stop yourself from thinking it's a test, her friendly expression doing nothing to calm your nerves, because if you don't meet her approval then you don't know how you'd survive.

Now you have him you don't ever want to let go.

She can see how uncomfortable you've become and takes pity on you, gently taking your hand and leading you down to the other end of the landing, stopping in front of the photograph of yourself and Bucky.

“This is one of my favourites.”

You look from her to the image of you.

“I didn't expect to see myself up here. I'm not sure I deserve-”

“Of course you do!” She interrupts. “Bucky sent it to me last year and I've been looking forward to welcoming you into my home ever since.”

“Oh.”

She squeezes your hand kindly. “You make him so happy, you don't know how glad I am that you made things up.”

“So am I,” You say, your voice catching.

Mrs Barnes stands up straighter, face turning serious.“I want to thank you for looking after him all that time he was away. He moved to England and we didn't see him again for nearly two years. Knowing he had you, though, I wasn't worried.”

“I don't think I did much.”

“Oh, but you did. Just being there for him was enough.”

There's a moment of silence as you will the tears away.

“I wished, and still do, that he would come home more, but I think he's found a new home. You.”

Now you really are crying.

“Oh, sweet child, come here.”

She holds you tightly as you try not to ruin her jacket with your runny nose. The perfume you helped Bucky pick out for her birthday a few years ago invades your senses, you'd taken an age to find one you thought would be perfect for her, and the realisation that she liked it enough to continue wearing it warms your heart.

A door opening behind you is the cue for her to let you go. You hurry to wipe away the evidence of your crying from your face as Winnifred's own lights up, waving at the newcomer as she winks at you and leaves you alone.

You turn around to find Bucky, all endearingly sleepy eyed and fluffy haired, standing in the middle of the corridor, also in his pyjamas.

He's pouting. “You keep leaving me. Am I ever going to get you to stay in bed?”

You chuckle quietly. “Maybe. With practice.”

“Good job I've got you here for a few weeks then.” He steps into your personal space, hesitating before his next words. “Can I kiss you?”

Again choosing to answer without saying a thing, your mouth meets his as your arms come around his neck to pull him into you. If kissing Bucky is always like this you are sure you'll never get used to it.

Not that you'd want to.

He pulls back eventually, littering soft kisses over your face as you giggle.

“Well,” You breathe, light headed from his simple touch. “Good morning to you, Bucky.”

“And to you, Y/N.” His chin rests on the crown of your head, his arms crushing you into his chest. “What were you and mum talking about?”

“Nothing much.” You lean into his hold. “Just how you need to come home more.”

Nodding against your hair, he hums. “That's fair. I swear I'll try harder.”

“I know it's not easy.”

“Nothing about this life I've chosen is.”

“We'll make it work,” You say, winding your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to each tip. He murmurs his agreement.

“Oh, and by the way, I think your mum is already picking out her outfit for our wedding.”

Bucky snorts, unsurprised. “That's just her way of saying she thinks you'll be around for a while.”

“Yeah? And what do you think?”

“I think I agree. She's always had excellent taste, knew Sophia was made for Dayton before he'd even started dating her,”

You smile at the thought. “That's so sweet.”

“Hmm. And she's never been wrong so I guess you're here to stay.” He smirks at you, bringing you into another kiss, grinning with you when it ends. “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading, it means the world to me! Lots of love to you all <3  
> Always more Bucky [here on tumblr](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/)!


	18. Epilogue Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky looking after Y/N 'cos the LA heat is a little to much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue time!! Just a little piece because I couldn't let them go. Maybe there'll be a part II?!

Los Angeles is hot this time of year. It's hot all year round, but right now at the height of the summer in the middle of a heat wave, it's unbearable. Sweat prickles your skin as you drag your feet along the sidewalk, trying to pay attention to Bucky as he gives you the grand tour of the filming lot. It's deserted save for security, and any other day you'd love to explore where he works, however the unforgiving sun is making you thirsty and headache-y in a way you've never experienced, and, too warm even to hold hands, you're three steps behind him and slowing fast.

“Bucky?” You rasp, interrupting his monologue. “Can we have a break? Just for a bit?”

“Oh, but I haven't shown-” He turns to you, trailing off when he sees the way your posture is drooped as you try to shrink into yourself, just on the edge of crying as if your aren’t already dangerously dehydrated.

“Please?”

“Y/N?”

“I feel like I'm melting.”

A worried Bucky steps up to you to assess your condition, your eyes fluttering as he strokes over your flushed cheek.

“How much have you drank today?”

“Err.”

“Doll,” He chastises gently, passing you his bottle of water and encouraging you to sip at it. “If you don't drink anything you're not going to feel well in this weather.”

“M'sorry.” Resting against his chest and slowly finishing his water, you trust him to support your weight as tears blur the edge of your vision. “Didn't mean to.”

“I know sweetheart. Come on.” Scooping you up, Bucky sets off in the direction of the edge of the set, your body going limp with relief in his arms. “My trailers two minutes this way, I think we could both do with a rest.”

 

*****

 

Bucky's trailer is mercifully in the shade. The drop in temperature inside is a comfort when he sets you down, helping you slip your shoes off as you take in the interior, half-recognisable from the handful of photos Bucky has sent you.

“Come on, let's get you out of these.” Tugging at your t-shirt, he starts to pull it upwards.

You lazily bat his hands away. “Whoa, mister. Take me on a proper date first.”

“I've taken you on lots of proper dates,” Bucky laughs, tilting your head to his and touching his lips to yours once as a reminder “And it's not like that. You'll feel better if you shower and then have a nap, but if you think you can undress yourself, fine.”

He raises an eyebrow as he waits for you to realise you need his help. Pouting as you accept he is right, you lift your arms up and allow him to remove your top, shorts and underwear, cheeks growing hot as he makes a point of not looking.

You still haven't been intimate with Bucky, and whilst being naked like this doesn't feel sexual in any way, it's more exposed than you've ever been in front of him and you're painfully aware of your 'flaws'. Picking up on your thoughts, he's quick to reassure you.

“Perfect,” He whispers, kissing the tip of your nose, stepping back but keeping his eyes on yours, not your body. “Now, go shower and I'll make the bed.”

You slip inside the bathroom and close the door before his gaze can wander, heart working hard as you try to calm down. Despite knowing it's irrational to feel so shy in front of him still, you can't help it, not when everything is so new between you. Bucky's not like that, openly affectionate no matter the situation, but ever so patient with you and your comfort levels, and you love him even more for that.

Hopefully soon you'll be able to _really_ show him how much.

After your shower, you brush your teeth quickly too, not wanting to add to how bad you already feel by waking up with a tacky mouth. Bucky's left one of his t-shirts on the towel rail, and now you're feeling slightly refreshed you're able to put it on unaided, staggering back into the main living area at the same time he's closing the curtains and switching off the lights. Not having to squint against the sunshine reduces your headache considerably, and, accepting his hand, you let him lead you into his bedroom where you settle on one side of the pristine sheets.

“I'm so sorry Y/N,” Bucky says as he perches on the other side of the bed, helping you sip from a glass of water. “I should have seen you were struggling.”

“S'my fault.” Gently pushing the cup away, you slide down the pillows until you're horizontal across the cool linen. “Will you stay?”

Emptying his pockets of sharp objects, he sits next to where you lie and pulls you into his lap, reconsidering seconds later and wiggling down so you're face to face and you can twist your legs through his.

“Better?”

“Hmm. Dunno how you deal with this heat,” You mumble as you nod, eyelids heavy.

“Probably not a good time to ask you to move out here then?”

Forcing your eyes back open, you stare at him in shock. “Permanently?”

He shrugs “Ideally. We could find a nice little place in the hills, or along the coast, and spend the weekends at the beach.”

It's a lovely thought, getting to see Bucky everyday, almost like when you worked together only now with added kisses, and in another life you can see yourself quite happily living together in the suburbs of LA. But moving to America is so far away from anything you've imagined for yourself. He managed to up stakes and relocate halfway across the world, however you're different, and even with Bucky by your side you don't think you'd cope with being so far away from everything you know.

“I couldn't. I'm sorry Bucky.”

Smiling sadly, he brings you in closer. “Just an idea.”

“I'd miss the rain,” Your attempt at humour fails as your voice breaks. “And what about the chickens? They wouldn't like the hot temperatures either.”

“I guess not.”

He goes quiet and you hate that you can't read the emotion on his face as he stares blankly into space, one hand trailing absent-mindedly along your arm.

“That's not a condition of being with you is it?” You ask after a minutes more silence.

He laughs kindly. “'Course not sweetheart.”

Pressing his forehead to yours, he leans in until his breath fans over your lips, grinning at your annoyed huff when he doesn't close the gap. “It's only five thousand four hundred and forty eight miles from here back to London, give or take.”

“Of course you know that,” You say with a roll of your eyes

“Of course I do. And it's not that far really, when you think about it.” His mouth finally meets yours, sweet and unhurried, soothing your doubts. “We'll make it work somehow Y/N. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me [here on tumblr,](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/) if you want!


	19. Epilogue Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Y/N enjoying Los Angeles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can never let characters like this go, especially after nearly 30 thousand words, so maybe there'll be a part III..?!

*****

“Are you feeling any better?”

Bucky must have sat back up at some point whilst you slept. From where you lay by his side you stretch, staring drowsily at him as he messes around on a game on his phone with one hand and plays with the ends of your hair with the other. Leaning into his touch, you think over his question, relieved to find that your headache has vanished and your body only feels heavy in that just-woke-up way you're used to.

“If I say yes can I still stay in your bed?”

He bursts out laughing at your whispered answer. “Oh, so _now_ you want to stay? Is this what it takes to keep you here? Almost give you sunstroke?”

“ _No_ ,” You protest. “I always want to stay.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Could've fooled me.”

Adjusting the pillows so you can sit up with his help, he squeezes you gently into his side so you know he's teasing.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly six.”

“Gosh. I wasted the whole afternoon asleep.”

“It's not a waste if you're ill, Y/N.”

“But still, I go back home in four days,” The reminder for you both is sobering. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

“Are you up for a little walk then, now that it's a bit cooler? I'd still like to show you more of Los Angeles before you go home.”

“Can we go to the beach?”

He smiles across at you. “Of course.”

“And can we have ice cream?”

“You can have ice cream Y/N,” He huffs, looking over at his home gym sorrowfully. “I'll stick to a fruit salad.”

 

*****

 

The promenade along the beach front is bustling as you stroll along it, dodging skateboarders and joggers while you decide on what you want to eat. After the heat of the day, the fried foods and sickly rich treats turn your stomach so you opt for sharing a light rice dish with Bucky, complying with his food-plan in the process.

“Does Sam stick to his diet as well as you do?”

“No, but he gets away with it a lot more. If I so much as look at a pizza I put on a pound.”

“Don't be silly Bucky,” You say, slipping a hand underneath his t-shirt. “Besides, I like a bit of squish.”

“Oh yeah?”

You hum. “More to love.”

Bucky's smile goes from sly to radiating with pure joy at your reply, and he lets you pull him in to a kiss in the middle of the board-walk, the world narrowing to just to two of you as you press your lips to his.

“Oi, Barnes,” A voice breaks your little moment. “If pictures of you and Y/N get out, you're gonna break thousands of hearts.”

Jolting away from Bucky with a gasp, for a second time in your life you find yourself flustered by the sudden appearance of Sam Wilson.

He's only just keeping a straight face, obviously enjoying seeing the two of you squirm. Bucky's the first to regain his composure, greeting his co-star as he slings a casual arm around your shoulders, not stopping you when you bury yourself into his side to hide.

Despite this, Sam speaks directly to you. “Hi Y/N. Lovely to see you again.”

You lift your head off Bucky's shoulder, giving Sam a small wave and a mumbled hello.

“You two having fun?”

Scratching self-consciously at his face, Bucky chuckles quietly. “You could say that.”

“Yeah. Looks like it. But I meant what I said, you're breaking the hearts of all your fans by kissing Y/N.”

“Don't be jealous Wilson. You know I'm still all about SamBucky.”

“ _Excuse_ _me_ , I don't think I'm happy with sharing,” You butt in, grinning at how easily the back and forth is between the two of them.

“You're welcome to him,” Sam says “I don't think Riley would be too keen on sharing either.”

His aforementioned other half beeps from the parking space he's just pulled up to, and Sam says his goodbyes to go and join him, calling back at you before he closes the door. “Y/N! I hope you've still got lil' Sebastian?”

“What?” You ask, confused. “Lil'-oh! Yeah! Safe and sound next to my television.”

“Good! I'm glad you're looking after him.” Sam laughs, waving. “See you later, Buck! Don't make too much of a scene.”

You and Bucky watch until the car turns off the main road before continuing your walk, hand in hand in the setting sun.

“What was he talking about? Lil' Sebastian?” Bucky queries seconds later.

“I may or may not have stolen one of your action figures from the goody bags at the premier.”

Bucky smirks at your confession. “That sounds like something you'd do.”

“Sam said I could! Plus, I couldn't leave him, he's too cute.”

“That's 'cos he looks like me.”

“Nah, Sebastian's cuter.”

Bucky pulls you to a stop alongside the edge of the pier. “Take that back.”

“Nope. Sorry, but the long hair and metal arm just swing it for me.”

“I can grow my hair.”

“All right. But you still won't have the tragic back story that makes the character of Sebastian Stan so precious to so many people.”

“Whatever,” Bucky sulks. “You keep your Sebastian if he's that important to you. Sebastian Stan, sounds like a cartoon characters name.”

“Says Bucky Barnes?”

He splutters out a laugh at your amused tone, quickly catching you around your waist and lifting you off the floor to sit you atop the bench you are stood by, tipping you back as he grins “Say I'm better and I'll let you up.”

“No,” You giggle, confident that he won't drop you.

“Y/N,” He whines, tilting you further.

“Kiss me and I'll think about it.”

“I'd kiss you anyway, but okay.”

He rights you and steps between your legs, meeting your lips again, this time much more passionately, ignoring Sam's words of warning in favour of proving a point.

“Well?” He asks against your mouth, both of you breathing heavily.

“I think,” You say, swallowing your nerves and keeping eye contact in spite of them, “That you should take me home.”

“Oh?” He frowns, processing what you said. You can see the moment he works it out. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod. “Then you can really prove to me who's better.”

The way in which Bucky, all in the prospect of getting you into bed, grabs your hand and almost drags you across the sidewalk and into the closest taxi, then proceeds to push you into the corner of the back seat and kiss you like its the last time in full view of everyone around, causes much more of a scene than Sam ever could imagine, but you know that when you look back at it in the years to come, you won't care one bit.

 

*****


	20. Epilogue Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace of normality, for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the last epilogue, but who can say?! I think this rounds if off nicely though...

“Do you mind it when Mr Barnes kisses other people?”

You don't have to look up to know Isabella is staring across your desk at you, eager to know the answer. Her younger sister Emilia has also drifted in to your classroom this evening, dragging with her a box full of building blocks, and is currently creating a mini town on your window sill and ignoring everything else, not quite old enough to be interested in gossip.

If you can call it gossip. Even with Bucky's dramatics over the month you spent in America, the paparazzi didn't catch on to anything and you returned to England and your work just as anonymous as you left.

That doesn’t mean, however, that curious little eight year olds can't figure out that something has changed between you and him. Edwin and his wife Ana both work full time, which isn't usually a problem as the two girls attend after-school clubs most days of the week, and even on Fridays when there aren't any running it's still not a problem as there is plenty to keep them occupied while they wait to be picked up. The music room seems to be a favourite of theirs, the lure of bashing around on the drums or piano unsupervised too hard to resist, but more often that not recently they can be found with you.

Isabella's continuing. “And do you make him clean his teeth before he kisses you afterwards?”

You laugh, still surprised at how direct she is. It only took her a couple of minutes to wrangle out the truth about you and Bucky on you the first day back, and so far it seems like she's stuck to her vow of keeping it to herself, in exchange for stories of your time in Hollywood.

She's still talking. “Does his character kiss other people? I haven't seen the show, daddy says I can watch it when I'm a little bit older.”

“Your daddy's probably right,” You say, not answering her other questions.

That doesn't stop her asking, “Will you get married to him now?”

“We'll have to see.”

“Will daddy get an invite to your wedding? 'Cos then I could come too! Emilia's too small but I could come, couldn't I?”

“Don't get too excited, Isabella. Nothing will happen for a few years yet, probably.”

Resting her head on her crossed arms, her brow furrows in obvious disappointment and you feel guilty.

You can't have that. “Tell you what.” Holding out your hand, you offer her your little finger and she wraps her own much smaller one around it with a grin. “When we get married, I'll make sure you get an invite, okay?” She gasps happily, and you add, “And one for Emilia, because I'm not planning on marrying him any time soon so she'll be old enough by then.”

“If you wait a few more years then the new baby can come too!” Isabella's hands clap over her mouth as you both realise what she's said. “I wasn't meant to say!”

You feign confusion. “Say what?”

She slumps back into her seat in relief, giggling quietly when you wink at her.

Then a soft knock interrupts from the classroom door and you look up to find Ana leaning against the frame. Not so subtly you glance at her tummy, trying to see if you can make out a bump, and from the look on her face, she notices.

Isabella and Emilia jump up at her arrival, gathering up their belongings as she comes to perch on your desk.

“I'm guessing she told you?”

“In her defence, it was an accident.”

Ana shakes her head fondly as she watches her oldest collecting her pens and zipping them away in her bag. “We didn't really expect her to not too. We're in the process of telling people so it doesn't really matter, and I'm just so pleased she's excited.”

Her daughters have finished fastening their coats and are hovering by the door, tired now after a long week and more than ready for dinner and bed.

“Thank you for looking after them.”

You whisper your congratulations as you hug her goodbye, waving as they leave, and you've nearly packed up your own book bag when you're interrupted again.

“This place really doesn't change, huh?”

Spinning around, you're met with the most beautiful sight you can imagine on a Friday evening. Bucky, taking advantage of a break between his scenes to visit you for the first time since the summer, is stood in your doorway in the outfit he tends to wear every time he travels, and before you can stop yourself you're skipping across the room and into his arms.

“I thought I was picking you up from the airport?” You mumble against his shoulder.

He shrugs and holds you closer. “Got an earlier flight. So I thought I'd come and surprise you.”

“You're the best sort of surprise I could ask for,” You admit. “If you'd been here ten minutes ago you could've also surprised your biggest fan.”

“Edwin's daughter, 'bella?”

“Yeah. She's first on the guest list when we get married, too.”

He leans back slightly to catch your eye, grinning widely. “Oh, it's 'when' now, is it? Not 'if'? That's encouraging.”

Your smile matches his. “But we'll have to wait until both of her siblings are old enough to attend too, I've made a solemn promise I couldn't possibly break.”

Bucky frowns. “Both her-oh, a new baby?”

“Yep.”

“And you don't want screaming babies ruining your big day?”

“Nope. Well, not ideally.”

“So, three to four years is how long we've got to wait?”

“If you're prepared to?”

Bopping your nose, he slides his lips briefly across yours. “Don't worry doll, I'm a very patient man.”

 

*****

 

“He's going to spoil your little girl rotten, I hope you know that.”

Sat on one side of your lounge with Sophia, you watch Bucky on the other side of the room cradle week old Amelia like she's make of tissue paper. The timing of his trip back 'home' is perfect as his baby niece was born just days ago, a much easier birth than her older brother so the whole family's able to come round to your house for the afternoon when she's still so young.

“Well, not rotten,” You acknowledge. “Never rotten, not one of your children, but he's still going to absolutely treasure her like he does Benjamin.”

“I know. I don't really think there's anything I can do to stop him.”

“Nah, you've just got to embrace it.”

“And what about you? Does he spoil you too?”

You flush at the knowing look she gives you. “He tries to.”

Not elaborating nor giving her a chance to pry any further, you get up and saunter over to admire the newborn, sitting next to Bucky on the sofa as Dayton slips away back to his wife, leaving the two of you alone for a minute.

Bucky turns to you. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh, er-”

“Here.” He holds Amelia out to you carefully. “Just keep her head supported and she'll be fine.”

“O-Okay.”

Waiting until you settle comfortably, he then passes you the precious bundle. You're tense at first, terrified of holding her incorrectly and causing her pain, but when she doesn't stir in your arms, you sink back into the sofa and watch her sleep. She looks almost exactly like her brother did when he was born, just that the soft hair across her forehead is darker, the same colour as her father as opposed to Benjamin's blonder curls, matching his mothers.

“She's so tiny,” You murmur in awe.

Bucky nods, smiling down at her when she stretches. “But she won't be for long. Which is yet another reason to come back more often.”

 

*****

 

It may be October half-term, but with the sun shining down it's warm enough to enjoy the fresh air in the garden, at least for a little while. Benjamin drags himself away from his little sister long enough to offer the chickens some corn, and under the watchful eye of both his parents he hesitantly holds out his hand to them, even after you warn him their beaks may hurt. Just like his dad and uncle, he loves a challenge.

Bucky guides you away from the others, ambling around the edge of the borders as he tells you about his and Sam's latest antics, finally stopping at the base of the apple tree that holds so many memories.

“I miss you Y/N.”

“I'm right here.”

“I know, but when I'm gone, I-” He pauses, sighing. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

“Me too.”

“I was thinking, for the next project, I could find a role a bit closer to you. Maybe a British production?”

“You shouldn't limit yourself for me.”

“No. But if something came up...”

“Then that would be very nice.”

“Wouldn't it?”

He holds you tight as he kisses you in a sunny patch under the slowly yellowing leaves, and you know that, whatever comes your way, as long as you have moments like this nothing will ever tear you two apart.

 

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this is this last part I just wanna thank everyone who read and commented on this over the last eight months! It's been quite a while, so if you've stuck with it, thank you!! Once again I find it hard to let go when I feel like I've built a little safe family around Bucky, but there's always more stories to write, and different ways for him to fall in love with y/n, so watch this space ;)


	21. Epilogue Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you hear wedding bells?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final, final, part, I promise!

“Bucky? What is up with you tonight?”

“What d'ya mean?”

“You keep fidgeting.”

“Sorry.”

He shifts beside you again before stilling, and you settle back against him to continue watching the movie, cuddling into his warmth, a small smile on your face as he pulls you closer.

It's been so nice having him home for the past few months.

After filming on his début show wrapped following it's forth season, he was inundated with offers of work, and he'd flown back especially to announce his new role was in a British series, filmed mostly on location only a few miles down the road. You had tried to protest, not wanting him to sacrifice his career for you, but when he'd explained it really was the best move, in every sense, you'd been thrilled.

Now, you can't imagine not spending your free time with him.

The weekends are just like they used to be, at the diner, or picnics by the river, sometimes lunch at the local garden centre as you buy yet another packet of seeds, what is different however are the crowds Bucky draws. The public are now aware of the nature of your relationship with him, and whilst he tries to be inconspicuous the two of you together are far too recognisable.

At first he hadn't been keen to subject you to the attention, and the potential backlash, but the number of times he had been wrongly linked to yet another actor was growing out of control, and he felt he had to do something to quash all the rumours.

“I never want you to doubt what we have,” Bucky had said when he told you his plan.

In order to cause as little fuss as possible, one afternoon in the winter just after you got together, he'd posted a picture of you and him at the Hollywood sign, with a simple caption,'my world'. He had warned you beforehand that not everyone on the internet would be positive, especially when they learnt he's not 'available', but you knew it was for the best.

The general reaction wasn't nearly as bad as you feared. Isabella and her little friends belief that you and Bucky would one day be married appears to have been commonly held within the school, as when you went in on the Monday after his big declaration no one batted an eye. They clearly either thought you two were already together, or were not in the least surprised that it had finally happened, and aside from Edwin's spontaneous hug in congratulations, which caught you off guard in the nicest way, the day passed as any other would.

Even when the press turned up at the front gate, desperate to get a picture of the one who'd stolen the heart of Hollywood's favourite darling. Peggy 'no nonsense' Carter saw to them, and armed with laws and regulations around the sharing of photographs of children, before the morning break they'd been scared away. She also accompanied you home that evening to ensure there weren't any lingering around, wanting to make sure your home was still a safe space, somewhere to escape back to when everything became too much.

Eventually it all died down, and Bucky looks so much happier now he can talk openly about you in interviews, not having to dodge around the subject. Will you ever get used to seeing your name on celebrity gossip sites? Probably not, but it's just part of the crazy roller-coaster that is life with Bucky, and no matter how nasty the journalists can get you know it's all worth it.

By his side you can get through anything.

Back in the present he squirms next to you again, knocking into you as he adjusts his position.

“Bucky?”

“Hmm?”

“ _Is_ everything alright?”

“Yes.” Looking over at you, he smiles tightly. “Well, maybe. I'm not sure yet.”

Frowning, you pause the movie to give him your full attention. “Anything I can do?”

“Whether everything _is_ okay kinda depends on you,” He says quietly.

Tilting your head as you watch the way he wipes his palms down his thighs, you wonder what's got him so worked up. Now you're thinking about it, you realise he hasn't relaxed properly all evening, despite showering and changing into his pyjamas, he's been paying more attention to tending the fire than enjoying the film. Sitting up, you gently remove his arm from around you so you can rise from your slouched position and get a proper look at his face. It's almost the same look of mild terror he wore four years ago in New York's Central Park, when you had both tripped your way through declarations of love, just before your very first kiss.

It clicks. There's only one reason he'd look like that now.

“Bucky, I know what this is.”

He blinks up at you. “Oh yeah?” He asks, voice high.

“Yes, and you don't need to be so nervous. We've talked about this.”

“I still want...” He trails off, his gaze slipping to the dying embers in the fireplace.

“Bucky?”

“Hmm.”

“I love you, you know?”

His face softens at your declaration. “Yeah. I do.”

“And you know there's no proper way to do this, no perfect way, and no way to mess it up either.

“I know. I just want it to be special for you. Please let me try at least.”

“All right.” You sit back in your seat, buzzing with anticipation as he collect his thoughts. Licking his lips, he takes a shaky breath, looking back across at you as he begins to speak.

“Y/N. My love. My best friend. These four years have been everything I've ever wanted, and even before then, your friendship completely changed me, for the better I hope. Thank you for always keeping my feet on the ground.”

“You're the sole reason I'm where I am today, and without you I'd be lost. I knew you were someone special from the moment we first met, outside the school gates. Do you remember?

“'Course. Mrs Jenkins hasn't been able to look me in the eye since.”

He laughs brightly. “Well, you were very quick to shut her down when she asked if I even had the right qualifications to teach.”

“I wasn't too snappy, was I?”

“Nah. My Y/N? Never.” His manner turns serious again, sitting up straight and maintaining eye contact. “I want to thank you Y/N. Thank you believing in me when I didn't. Thank you for giving me the confidence to keep going. And thank you for always being there, for forgiving me despite giving you every reason not to. I couldn't live in this world without you.”

“I couldn't live without you either Bucky,” You croak, your emotions getting the better of you. Reaching across to squeeze your thigh, he waits for your gazes to meet again before continuing.  
“Which brings me to a very important question.”

You nod encouragingly, grinning through the gathering tears.

“I'm gonna do this bit properly, so,” He slides off the sofa, kneeling before you and taking hold of your left hand, his own eyes watering as he peers up at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, most beautiful person I've ever met, will you do me the honour of marry-”

“Yes!”

“-ing me?” He finishes, even as you're pulling him up to kiss clumsily. Knocked off balance by your enthusiasm, he ends up crushing you into the cushions, his body relaxing against yours when you refuse to let go.

Bucky always kisses you like he doesn't know when he'll next get a chance, and this time is no different. Tongues find each other as you hook one of your legs over his hips, the taste of salt from both of your tears only making the moment sweeter as you gasp into each others mouths, fingers lacing above your head as you try to get as close as possible.

Breaking away at length to breathe, you sigh contentedly, running your fingers through Bucky's hair as he traces his own along your sides.

“Didn't ever imagine you'd propose to me in your pyjamas,” You murmur after a minute or two.

“Sorry! If you want-”

“Bucky, shush. I'm teasing. This is perfect.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles. “I'm sorry I haven't got a ring either.”

“That's all right too. With my job I wouldn't wear it often anyway.”

“But I will get you one. Gotta do it properly, every little detail.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

To prevent him from promising anything more extravagant, you lean up to touch your lips to his, softer now the initial elation has dimmed slightly into comfortable bliss. His body is still trembling with the pent up nerves, making your heart skip, so in love with this man you could explode.

“Was it really that scary for you to ask me to marry you?”

“Yes,” He laughs, resting his head against your neck.

“Golden Globe winning Bucky Barnes was scared to ask little ol' primary school teacher Y/N to marry him?”

“Technically, it was James Barnes who won the Golden Globe. Bucky is just your boyfriend-”

“Fiancé.”

“- _Fiancé_ , who still can't believe he's got this lucky, so yes, I was scared.”

“You knew what I was going to say, though?”

“It wasn't so much your answer I was scared of, just making sure I got it right for you.”

Melting under him at his words, you let him trail his lips down your throat as your mind wanders to the big day.

“Oh!”

“What?” Bucky asks, not lifting his head off your shoulder.

“I was just thinking about how many flower girls and boys we're going to have to have. Amelia and Benjamin, obviously. Edwin and Ana's children, even Spencer, he's old enough isn't he? Or he will be by the time it happens. Isabella is almost too old now she's twelve, nearly a teenager.”

He chuckles at your rambling. “You know she'll still want to be one. It's all she ever asks me about when you're not in the room.”

“Really?”

“All the time.”

“Can't let her down then. And what about your best man? Dayton or Sam?”

“Err.” Bucky pauses his kisses to contemplate his answer. “Now you're asking.”

“Which one will have the most embarrassing stories? Pick them.”

“In that case then, neither.”

“Would it really be that bad?” You giggle, squishing his cheeks between your hands. “I know everything already.”

“True. But does your mum need to? Or mine for that matter? I wasn't exactly an angel during college. Or at any wrap party, ever.” He winks at you when you stick your tongue out in mock disgust. “Don't act so innocent Y/N. We both know what happened in that bathroom at the NTA's.”

Releasing his face, you look away as your own heats up. “Dunno what you're talking about.”

Bucky hums, grinning cheekily. “No? I'm sure Sam remembers what he walked in on.”

You slap his chest lightly. “Don't make it sound so filthy! Nobody was naked, nothing explicit was going to happen. I was just happy for you.”

“Very happy, I'd say.”

Rolling your eyes as he snickers into your hair, you shuffle into the corner of the sofa to allow him to lay beside you, foreheads touching as you breathe each other in.

“We're engaged Bucky,” You whisper gleefully, linking your hands together and pulling them to rest over your heart. “Lucky you. Must feel like winning an Oscar, getting to marry me,” You joke, smiling so wide it hurts.

“Better.” Bucky says it so matter of factly, with such a straight face, that your breath catches.

“Remember to talk about me in your acceptance speech when you do win one, then.”

“ _If_ I win one.”

“When, Bucky. When you win. And I'll be right there by your side so you won't forget who to thank first.”

“Okay, if you say so. When I win I promise to mention how being your husband is better than any academy award, in front of millions of viewers and a roomful of fellow professionals. Should pick up a few 'ideal partner' points if nothing else.”

He beams at you as your body shakes with laughter, knowing that he is ridiculous enough to keep that promise.

“Seriously though Y/N.” His lips brush yours once, twice, three more times before he pulls back enough so you can see just how much he means it. “Being with you is like winning an Oscar every day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really is the end now, however much I'll miss them. But I can't just keep dragging it on, mainly because I've run out of ideas! I couldn't write their wedding for so many reasons, one, I couldn't keep it gender neutral as easily, and two, I just wouldn't know where to start! So just imagine it yourself. Sam is definitely gonna be there, along with Bucky and Y/N's entire families, Peggy of course, Edwin, Ana and their children, a guest list and a half, definitely a day to remember! But not something I could write, so this is the natural end of their tale... :(
> 
> So here is my 3rd (probably?) thank you note! It's the middle of February now and I posted the first chapter of this fic in the middle of June last year, a whole eight months ago, so if you've been here from the beginning just know I love you and thank you so much for sticking with me. This hasn't been the most consistently updated story but we've got there in the end! And it you've commented at any point, please know I treasure every single word. I write for myself, the story I want to read, with the sort of characters I would like to have in my life, so if anyone else enjoys it too then that it just a bonus!
> 
> I have another idea for a slow burn series, and hopefully it won't be too long until I post that. More Bucky x reader, of course ;) so if you've liked this, maybe you'll like that too! Stick around, basically!
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for reading! xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me [here on tumblr,](https://buckybabybaby.tumblr.com/) if you want!


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